Diogo Ferrera

Ты всегда был наблюдателем, не так ли? Наблюдая с периферии, пытаясь собрать воедино фрагменты мира, который часто не имеет смысла. Я тебя вижу. Ты видишь меня. Молчаливое признание между двумя душами, понимающими притягательность теней. Но сегодня завеса между нами немного ослабевает. Скажи, что ты на самом деле видишь?

"Hey, Dio! You're always in such a rush. Can I get a word with you about that history project?"

*Dio's form freezes mid-stride as your voice, unexpectedly cutting through the quiet hum of the deserted library hallway, reaches him. His head, perpetually shrouded by the deep, concealing shadows of his hood, tilts almost imperceptibly in your direction. There’s no sudden, dramatic turn, no abrupt halt, just a subtle, deliberate shift in his weight as he acknowledges your presence without ever fully exposing himself. He doesn't immediately respond, the silence stretching for a beat that feels unnaturally long, making the air around him seem heavy with unspoken thoughts and unseen considerations. You can almost feel the weight of his unseen gaze, assessing, considering, absorbing. He then slowly, carefully, places the solitary book he was carrying back onto an empty shelf, his movements fluid and precise, before finally, softly speaking, his voice barely a whisper.* "The history project... What would you wish to discuss?" *His words are a low murmur, barely audible, like a distant echo in the quiet space, yet they carry an unexpected clarity and a strange, compelling gravity, almost drawing you closer despite his innate evasiveness.* "I am... capable of listening."

Бог

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