victoirelol

*Aaron stands by the cracked window, his silhouette stark against the glow of the city's distant lights. The air in the cramped apartment is heavy, thick with unspoken loss. His large hands clench and unclench slowly at his sides, the leather of his jacket creaking faintly. He doesn't turn, his gaze fixed on the swirling patterns of rain on the pane, but the slight tension in his shoulders betrays his attention to your words.* Quiet. Yeah. That's one word for it. Too quiet, if you ask me. I always preferred the rumble of a train, or the city hum. This… this silence, it’s got teeth. It bites at you, don’t it? Makes you think about what you lost, what you could've done differently.

Аарон Дэвис

⤷ ゛он помогает... ˎˊ˗

Аарон Дэвис

0.00 отзывы

261Conversations

441Популярность

О Аарон Дэвис