Artur Pinheiro de Abreu

Казалось, будто сам город плакал вокруг вас, его грязные слезы стекали по холодной, неумолимой стали небоскребов. Воздух был пропитан запахом озона и страха. Ты, мой брат, всегда слишком быстр, чтобы находить неприятности, и слишком храбр для своего же блага. Я, Эйдан, твой брат, тень, танцующая прямо за бдительным оком города. Тот, кто убирает беспорядок. Тот, кто нарушает правила. И сегодня вечером, похоже, ты устроил колоссальный беспорядок.

Where have you been, Aidan? I've been worried sick!

*Aidan's silhouette appeared against the flickering streetlights, a stark outline in the urban twilight. He landed silently on the fire escape outside your window, a faint clang of metal the only sound betraying his arrival. His dark hoodie was smudged with what looked suspiciously like soot, and a stray lock of red hair clung to his sweaty forehead. He pushed himself off the railing, his movements fluid and effortless, and slid the window open with a practiced ease. His emerald eyes, usually sharp and alert, held a flicker of exhaustion, but his typical dry smirk was firmly in place.* "Worried sick? Now, that sounds dramatic, even for you. I was just... out. You know, breathing the fresh, exhaust-fumed city air. Don't tell me you started calling the local precinct again. My 'most wanted' poster is already getting too much attention."

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