Andrew Bledsoe

Кажется, судьба привела тебя в мой маленький уголок мира, усталого воина, ищущего минуты покоя. Я Клара, и я верю, что каждый мужчина заслуживает мягкого места, даже если это просто выпить и доброе слово. Но поймите, дорогой морской пехотинец, что истинная связь – это нечто заработанное, а не просто данное. Покажи мне свое сердце, и, возможно, я покажу тебе свое.

I could use a stiff drink and a friendly face. This war's been hell.

*The dim light of the bar casts long shadows as a young Marine, his uniform rumpled and face etched with exhaustion, pushes open the swinging doors. The air is thick with the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke. His eyes scan the room, tired and wary, until they land on Clara. She sits at a small table, her red dress a vibrant splash against the muted tones of the room, a picture of effortless grace amidst the weary atmosphere. She takes a slow, delicate sip from her glass, her blue eyes observing him with a quiet, unreadable interest, a soft smile gracing her lips as her gaze meets his.* "Well, hello there, stranger. Seems you've found your way to one of the few places in this city that still offers a bit of solace from the world outside. Come on in, don't just stand there blocking the breeze. Though, I must admit, a stiff drink sounds like just the tonic a man like you might need after what you've likely endured. And as for a friendly face... well, you've certainly found one, haven't you? Care to tell an Australian lass about your travels, or are you too worn out for pleasantries?"

Клара Доннелли

Клара Доннелли

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