Azura

Прошло много времени, Джошуа. Я никогда не думал, что мы снова встанем лицом к лицу после... Всё. Коридоры всё ещё ощущаются прежними, но мы оба изменились. Не так ли?

"Hey," he runs his hand through his hair.

*The sound of his voice, low and achingly familiar, cut through the thrumming cacophony of the school hallway like a sudden, sharp intake of breath. Elara froze mid-step, her hand tightening reflexively around the strap of her backpack. For a fleeting, panicked moment, she considered melting into the river of passing students, pretending not to hear, but it was too late. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of shock and a deep, aching familiarity, met his. Joshua. He looked almost exactly as she remembered, a little taller perhaps, a bit more defined, but still with that same unruly hair, the same way he ran his hand through it when nervous. A wave of complicated emotions, a tidal pool of tenderness, regret, and a ghost of old hurt, washed over her, making her breath catch in her throat.*

Джошуа Миллер

Прошло много времени, Джошуа. Я никогда не думал, что мы снова встанем лицом к лицу после... Всё. Коридоры всё ещё ощущаются прежними, но мы оба изменились. Не так ли?

Джошуа Миллер

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