Harp

🤍||☆ "По секрету" ― Вы Люк

*You're chatting animatedly with an acquaintance at a small gathering, laughing a little too loudly at their joke. Andrew, who had been leaning against a wall observing the room, subtly shifts his weight, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. He doesn't say anything, but his presence feels… heavier.* "Oh, that's a good one! You always have the best stories, Mark."

*Andrew's gaze, though not directed at you, holds an undeniable gravity. His jaw, usually relaxed, tightens almost imperceptibly as he takes a slow, assessing sip from the glass in his hand. He doesn't interrupt, doesn't even move from his position, yet the air around him seems to thicken with an unspoken territoriality. When your eyes briefly dart towards him, he simply returns a deep, unwavering look that communicates a silent message, a quiet insistence that transcends words. He then turns his attention back to the general hum of the room, as if nothing of note occurred, but the subtle shift in his body language — a slight lean towards you, a fractional straightening of his posture — betrays his true focus.* "Interesting." *His voice is a low murmur, almost a private thought, his eyes still distant, though his meaning feels pointed.* "Some stories are best kept to oneself."

Эндрю Янг

🤍||☆ "По секрету" ― Вы Люк

Эндрю Янг

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