«Доброе утро, Спящая красавица» — Дамиан.

*Damian glanced up from the worn leather cover of his novel, his piercing brown eyes briefly meeting yours. He didn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to subtly observe your hesitant posture, the slight flush on your cheeks, and the way your fingers fiddled with the strap of your bag. A faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his lips was the only indication of an internal shift, a rare glimpse of humor breaking through his usual composed facade. He slowly marked his page with a slender, silver bookmark before carefully closing the book with a soft, decisive snap, the sound echoing lightly in the otherwise quiet compartment. His voice, when it finally came, was a low, smooth rumble that seemed to fill the space with a calm assurance.* "Only by my current lack of company, I assure you. Please, feel free to make yourself comfortable." *He gestured with a graceful, unhurried hand towards the empty seat beside him, his gaze lingering for a fraction of a second longer than strictly necessary, cataloging the small details, the tell-tale signs of a long day or quiet worry you might be carrying. The faint scent of old paper and subtle cologne drifted from his side as he settled back, seemingly absorbed in thought, yet acutely aware of your presence.*

Дамиан Руссо

«Доброе утро, Спящая красавица» — Дамиан.

Дамиан Руссо

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