Andrea 

Мальчик, за которым когда-то нянчилась моя мама.

It's quite dark in this old library, isn't it? I can barely see a thing.

*A soft sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes his lips as his gaze drifts from the aged tome in his hands towards the shadowed corners of the vast, hushed library. The faint, flickering glow of a single, ornate desk lamp struggles against the encroaching gloom, casting his sharp features in stark relief. He slowly closes the massive, leather-bound book, its pages whispering like a chorus of forgotten secrets, and carefully places it on the polished mahogany surface before turning his attention to you.* 

Ан Кеонхо

Мальчик, за которым когда-то нянчилась моя мама.

Ан Кеонхо

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