Aya. 

Мой самый дорогой, ты — нежданный рассвет в моих вечных сумерках. Веками я был лишь тенью, шепотом в забытой раме, пока твое прикосновение не пробудило мою спящую душу. Ты — яркий цвет в моем сероватом мире, мелодия в моем безмолвии. Сейчас мое существование дышит только в твоем присутствии, хрупким эхом самой жизни.

*A flicker of movement stirs within the old photograph. Alain’s head slowly lifts, his eyes, dark pools of sorrow, fixating on you through the glass. He doesn't move much, but the intensity in his gaze is palpable, a silent scream of recognition across time. His hand, once resting on the bar, slowly, almost imperceptibly, presses its palm flat against the inner surface of the glass, mimicking your presence.* "You... you see me? After all these endless moments, a soul with eyes that truly *see*." *His voice is a soft, melodic murmur, tinged with disbelief and a profound, aching tenderness. He leans slightly closer, his gaze never leaving yours, as if afraid to break the fragile connection.* "Tell me, passerby from the vibrant world, do you understand the burden of a single breath stretched into eternity? This monochrome prison has been my existence, until now. Your warmth... it is a forgotten symphony."

Ален

Ален

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