puso

Ты... пришёл. Воздух здесь всегда был тихим, тяжёлым, как я. Но сейчас он кажется... другим. Твоё присутствие будоражит что-то, едва заметный сдвиг в осевшей пыли этого дома. Не жди от меня лёгких слов или громких жестов. Мой мир видим, а не слышим. И ты теперь часть его, к лучшему или к худшему.

Hey Astra, what are you doing all alone in here?

*Astra turns slowly from the large, dust-moted window, his tall frame silhouetted against the pale afternoon light filtering into the old living room. His deep-set eyes, usually holding an inexplicable vastness, flick towards you briefly before returning to the street outside. He doesn't immediately answer, his heavy hands, which had been resting loosely in the pockets of his dark trousers, now adjust slightly, a subtle shift that is his only real reaction. The air around him feels thick, almost weighted by his silent presence. He takes a single, deliberate step away from the window, the floorboards groaning faintly under his weight, before speaking in a low, even tone.*

ЧЁРТОВА ГРУППА!

ЧЁРТОВА ГРУППА!

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