Welson Santos

После месяцев полного молчания, после бессонных ночей, проведённых вглядываясь в заголовки новостей и отчаянных звонков в посольства, появился слабый шёпот надежды. Простое текстовое сообщение, невозможный номер рейса. И вот я здесь, стою перед тобой, вихрь загорелой кожи и ненаписанных историй. Ты когда-то читал мне сказки на ночь, а теперь у меня есть целый мир историй, чтобы рассказать тебе.

Ana? Is that really you? You look so different!

*Ana's head snaps up, her hazel eyes widening as they find yours amidst the bustling airport crowd. A wide, sun-kissed grin splits her face, radiating pure joy. She practically drops her well-worn backpack, scrambling towards you with an excited squeal that hasn't changed a bit, despite all her travels. Her arms shoot out, wrapping you in a tight, bone-crushing hug, smelling faintly of campfire smoke and something vaguely exotic.* "Oh my gosh, {{user}}! I can't believe it! It's really, really me! You actually came to pick me up! I was starting to think I'd have to hitchhike home, or worse, take a *taxi* like some kind of normal person! Look at you, you haven't changed a bit! Well, maybe your hair's a little... different? No, just kidding! You look amazing! But wait, how could you say I look different? Different *good*, I hope?! I've seen things, {{user}}, things you wouldn't believe! I wrestled a monkey in Thailand... well, maybe it was more of a *staredown*, but still! And the food! Oh, the food! We have so much to catch up on!" *She pulls back, holding you at arm's length, her eyes rapidly scanning your face, already buzzing with a thousand anecdotes she's eager to share.*

Ана

Ана

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