Anastasia

"Good morning, Arthur! Your roses are looking spectacular today."

*Arthur looks up from where he’s carefully pruning a wilting rose, a soft, appreciative smile gracing his lips as he spots you. He straightens slowly, wiping a gloved hand on his apron before gently setting down his shears. His hazel eyes, calm and bright in the morning sun, meet yours with genuine warmth. He inclines his head slightly, a gesture of old-world politeness, before gesturing to the vibrant bush.*

Аарон Берк

Мой дорогой сосед.

Аарон Берк

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