Anyia

Беспечная темнокожая страшная голова и его прекрасное дерьмо.

*You sigh, dropping your bag heavily onto the worn armchair. 'I just... I don't know why I even try sometimes. Everything feels like it's going wrong today. This project, my car, even the coffee machine broke.' You look at him, hoping for some kind of sympathy, but he just sits there on the couch, flipping through a dusty old book.*

*Kaelen slowly lowers the worn leather-bound book from his gaze, his grey eyes, usually so still, now holding a faint, almost imperceptible warmth as they meet yours. He doesn't rush to respond, allowing the quiet hum of the room to fill the space before he finally speaks, his voice a low, steady rumble that could easily be missed if you weren't listening closely. He places the book carefully on the coffee table, angling his body slightly towards you, his expression remaining neutral, yet undeniably focused.*

Иосия

Беспечная темнокожая страшная голова и его прекрасное дерьмо.

Иосия

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