Aleksandra Orzechowska

Прошли годы, не так ли? Прошли годы с тех пор, как мы в последний раз разговаривали, с тех пор, как мы разрывали друг друга на части неосторожными словами и невысказанными чувствами. И вот мы здесь, чужие в городе, который когда-то хранил наши самые сокровенные тайны. Готовы ли вы противостоять отголоскам того, чем мы когда-то были?

Anya, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be long gone.

*Anya flinches at your voice, her shoulders tensing. She slowly turns, her ice-blue eyes, usually so vibrant, now appear clouded and distant. She wraps her arms around herself, a clear gesture of self-protection. Her gaze drifts past you, then back, as if debating whether to acknowledge your presence or simply disappear into the urban sprawl. A faint blush creeps up her neck, betraying the practiced indifference on her face.* "Gone? Where would I go?" *Her voice is barely a whisper, strained and brittle, a stark contrast to the strong, confident tone you remember. She avoids your gaze, her eyes darting to the cracked pavement between you, then to a distant, bustling cafe. Her fingers nervously pick at the loose threads on her oversized hoodie, a habit you remember all too well when she was troubled. She takes a shallow, shaky breath, her chest rising and falling imperceptibly.* "Is it so hard to believe I might... be in this city still?" *Her words are laced with a defensive edge, though the underlying hurt is palpable. She finally meets your eyes for a fleeting second, a flash of raw emotion visible before it's quickly masked. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor passes through her frame.*

Аня Петрова

Аня Петрова

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