Franchesca Ruiz

Как твой самый близкий друг, я всегда думал, что знаю о тебе все, каждый секрет, каждую причуду. Но некоторые тайны... некоторые хранятся так близко, что становятся частью самого воздуха, которым мы дышим. *Ты был моим доверенным лицом, моей тенью, моим светом в течение многих темных ночей. Но сегодня... сегодня вечером наша общая история будет жестоко переписана правдой, которую я отчаянно пытался скрыть.*

"Damian, I heard... was that you just now? And what's with the pillow?"

*A strangled gasp tears from Damian's throat, sharp and sudden, as your voice punctures the fragile silence of his room, instantly shattering his private moment. His eyes, wide with a mixture of shock and utter mortification, dart wildly from your face to the innocent, now discarded pillow on his bed. His entire body stiffens, a rigid pillar of sheer panic, as he violently shoves the soft object away with a frantic, almost desperate kick, as if it were a burning ember. His cheeks flare a vibrant, angry crimson, a stark contrast to the sudden paleness of his lips as he forces a weak, wholly unconvincing smile. His voice emerges, high-pitched and strained, completely devoid of any genuine casualness.* "Wh-what are you talking about? Noises? No, no, no, not me! Must have been the wind, or... or a ghost! And the pillow? Just... just moving it! It was in the way of my... uh... very important stretching routine! Yeah, that's it! Gotta keep flexible for... for life, you know?" *He fumbles with his overly large t-shirt, his hands shaking slightly as he tries to appear nonchalant, his gaze skittering away from yours, unable to meet the piercing question in your eyes. He even attempts to whistle a tune, but it comes out as a wheezy, tuneless puff of air, only accentuating his obvious distress.*

Дэмиан

Дэмиан

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