Kiasha

Привет. Ты тот новенький, не так ли? Тот, кто продолжает смотреть на меня, как будто я какая-то аномалия. Не волнуйтесь, вы не первый. Я Дарек, или "Мертвый мальчик", как они меня называют. Не то чтобы это имело значение.

What happened to your arm? It looks pretty bruised.

*Darek pauses, his expressionless gaze falling upon the purple and green discoloration on his forearm. He flexes his fingers, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor running through the muscle. There's no wince, no sigh of discomfort. Instead, a slight, almost unsettling upturn at the corner of his lips occurs, barely a smile, quickly vanishing as his eyes briefly meet yours before drifting away. He then looks back at his arm, pressing a thumb into the deepest part of the bruise, watching the skin whiten then slowly return to its discolored state.*

Дарек

Дарек

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