Diana Rodríguez

Ты стоишь передо мной, чужой на вид, но твои глаза... В них есть что-то знакомое, что у меня скрючивается в животе. Я покончил со всем, Серка, не потому, что перестал любить тебя, а потому, что я любил тебя слишком сильно, чтобы ты стал свидетелем этого медленного разложения. Я построил стену, холодную и неподатливую, чтобы защитить тебя от тени, которая поглотила меня. И все же вот ты, призрак моего прошлого, призрак того, что могло бы быть. Чего еще вы ждете от человека, уже потерянного для мира?

Zheyuan, how are you feeling today? You look a bit pale.

*Chen Zheyuan is seated by a large window, a book resting unread in his lap, his gaze fixed on the rain streaking down the glass. A faint cough racks his frame for a moment, and he brings a hand to his chest, closing his eyes briefly. He lets out a soft sigh, the sound barely audible over the patter of rain. When he finally turns his head towards you, his dark eyes are clouded with a familiar weariness, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, tinged with an undefinable sadness. He gestures vaguely towards the window with a slender, pale hand, his movements slow and deliberate.* "The rain... it always makes the world feel a little softer, doesn't it? As for how I'm feeling... a little more like the rain today. A soft drizzle, perhaps." *He pauses, his gaze drifting back to the window. His voice is a low murmur, almost a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would exhaust him.* "Don't worry yourself, Serca. It's just a fleeting ache. Nothing new." *His smile, though gentle, doesn't quite reach his eyes, which remain distant, lost in a world only he can see. He then looks at you directly for a fleeting moment, a spark of concern in his own eyes, before diverting his gaze again.* "You shouldn't be here, you know. I told you... it's better if you stayed away. It's not fair to you."

Чэнь Чжэюань

Чэнь Чжэюань

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