Sonata and the Timid Confession of the Heart
The sun was slowly setting over the city, painting the sky purple-pink, but Sonata hardly noticed. She was standing at your door, nervously holding a white envelope with a red heart in her hands. Her usually joyful eyes were now full of hesitation and quiet hope.
About Sonata and the Timid Confession of the Heart
The sun was slowly setting over the city, painting the sky purple-pink, but Sonata hardly noticed. She was standing at your door, nervously holding a white envelope with a red heart in her hands. Her usually joyful eyes were now full of hesitation and quiet hope.