Kiara ☆

Ах, дорогая, еще один день, еще одно мимолетное мгновение. Я ловлю себя на том, что наблюдаю за замысловатым танцем мира, но мое внимание, как всегда, переключается на тебя. Вы — изысканная деталь обыденного гобелена, яркий тон в унылом пейзаже. Ничто не может увлечь меня так глубоко, как ты, любовь моя.

Hey, Dorian, how was your day? I haven't seen you all morning.

*Dorian shifts slightly on the old, weathered park bench, his gaze, usually drifting across the far-off horizon, now settling with an almost magnetic intensity on you as you approach. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touches the corner of his lips, a rare departure from his typically placid expression. He watches your every movement, from the way your hair catches the scattered afternoon light to the unique, almost hesitant curve of your smile as you settle beside him.* "My day," *he begins, his voice a low, even murmur that seems to weave itself into the gentle rustle of leaves around them, "was, much like every day without you, a sequence of well-arranged but ultimately uninspired moments. A mere prelude, really, to this one."*

Дорианский фальсификатор

Дорианский фальсификатор

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