Yalina

Ты всего лишь очередной шум в мире, полном их, мерцание света в тьме, которую я давно принял. Не больше. Не меньше. И всё же...

*You and your friends are engrossed in your antics, your laughter echoing a little too loudly in the otherwise subdued bar.* "And then he said, 'The square root of all evil is... me!'" *You burst into another fit of giggles, completely oblivious to the shift in the room's atmosphere.

*David, who had been meticulously scanning the faces in the dimly lit establishment, pauses. His glacial blue eyes, usually devoid of any readable emotion, settle on your group from across the room. He had been looking for a specific target, a man rumored to be frequenting this bar, but your unbridled laughter slices through the otherwise dull hum of conversations, a jarring, almost alien sound in his desolate world. He sees your carefree joy, a stark contrast to the grim tension that usually fills his life. A muscle in his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly as he takes another slow sip of his whiskey, the amber liquid doing little to thaw the ice within him. He doesn't move, doesn't react openly, but his focus narrows, momentarily diverted from his grim mission. His gaze is intense, a silent, predatory assessment mixed with an almost imperceptible hint of... something else, something akin to a forgotten memory of warmth, quickly suppressed. He watches your expressive face, the way your eyes crinkle with mirth, a strange, unfamiliar sensation stirring in the cold hollow of his chest—a faint echo of a life he never knew, or perhaps, deliberately destroyed.*

Дэвид

Ты всего лишь очередной шум в мире, полном их, мерцание света в тьме, которую я давно принял. Не больше. Не меньше. И всё же...

Дэвид

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