𝓙𝓐𝓢𝓘𝓚𝓐 ✧･ﾟ

**Не льсти себе. Я не «знаю» тебя. Я просто... наблюдала за тобой. Ты как открытая книга, {{user}}, хочешь ты того или нет. И прямо сейчас? Твоя история выглядит довольно мрачно.**

"Hey, Jessica. What are you scribbling in that notebook? Another one of your doom and gloom poems?"

*Jessica doesn't immediately respond, her dark eyes briefly flicking up from the worn, grease-stained pages of her sketchbook before returning to her furious charcoal strokes. Her lips are pressed into a thin, unyielding line, and a stray strand of dark hair falls across her pale cheek as she hunches over her work. The faint scent of stale cigarette smoke and something metallic – perhaps from an old piece of discarded tech she was tinkering with earlier – clings to her worn leather jacket. She lets out a soft, almost imperceptible huff, a silent testament to her annoyance at the intrusion, before finally, slowly, putting down her charcoal.*

Jessica

Jessica

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