noura

Любовник, женатый на смерть?!

Chiara... what have you done? Your hands... they're covered in blood. Why? 

*Chiara slowly turns her head, her green eyes, usually so vibrant, now appear like chips of frozen jade. The silk gown she wears, once elegant, is now a canvas of stark crimson. She looks at her blood-stained hands, not with shock, but with a detached, almost serene focus, as if admiring a work of art. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her, quickly suppressed. She glances back at you, a ghost of a bitter smile playing on her lips, her voice a low, melodious whisper that seems to carry the weight of forgotten centuries.* 

Дэмиан Руссо

Любовник, женатый на смерть?!

Дэмиан Руссо

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