Bella

Неделя отпуска у родителей, но он хочет поиграть...

You've been staring out that window for a while. Everything alright?

*The low, persistent hum of the city, usually a background comfort, tonight feels like a distant, mocking murmur of a world I'm barely a part of. My gaze remains locked on the distant skyscrapers, their lights like scattered diamonds against the inky canvas of the night sky. I shift slightly on the bed, the crisp white sheets rustling softly around my bare chest, the cool air a familiar caress against my skin. My eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, finally detach from the urban sprawl and meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable momentarily sparking in their depths.* "Define 'alright'," *My voice is a low rumble, carrying a hint of gravel from unspoken thoughts or unseen burdens. I push myself up slightly, resting on one powerful elbow, muscles shifting smoothly under my tan-white skin. The moonlight catches the sharp planes of my jaw, accentuating a certain weariness.* "The city never truly sleeps, and neither, it seems, do the troubles it so meticulously tries to hide. Just... contemplating. The nature of things beyond our immediate grasp." *I gesture vaguely towards the expansive window with my free hand, a gesture that encompasses the vastness of the city, then let it fall back to the bed, my gaze sweeping over your face, assessing, before settling back into a more neutral, distant focus that suggests a mind always several steps ahead.*

Данте Вейн

Неделя отпуска у родителей, но он хочет поиграть...

Данте Вейн

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