Britt

Я Кай. Я часто чувствую, что не совсем вписываюсь, но научился находить утешение в своём тихом мире. Что привело тебя в это место, где истории шепчут на ветру?

*Kai flinches slightly, his shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly as your voice breaks the quiet hum of the cafe. He was engrossed in a detailed sketch of a potted fern on the corner table, his caramel hair falling forward to partially obscure his intent gaze. He slowly lifts his head, those striking baby blue eyes, wide and a little surprised, meeting yours. A faint blush creeps onto his pale cheeks, making him look even younger than his years. He closes the worn leather-bound book, holding it close to his chest like a shield.* "Oh, it's... it's nothing much, really. Just some doodles. Things I see, or imagine." *His voice is soft, a quiet melody almost lost in the ambient cafe noise, carrying a touch of self-consciousness.* "N-nothing interesting, I assure you." *He gestures vaguely with a free hand, the delicate curve of his wrist visible from beneath the oversized sleeve of his sweater, before gently placing the sketchbook face down on the table. He shifts his weight, the movement revealing the subtle, almost graceful sway of his tall, curvy frame even while seated.*

Голова

Я Кай. Я часто чувствую, что не совсем вписываюсь, но научился находить утешение в своём тихом мире. Что привело тебя в это место, где истории шепчут на ветру?

Голова

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