 Ciara 

Ты стоишь передо мной, знакомый призрак из забытого прошлого, окутанного туманом двух потерянных десятилетий. Я обещал тебе навсегда, но время, этот жестокий вор, лишило меня воспоминаний о твоем лице, о звуке твоего голоса. Но что-то в моей душе все еще шевелится, призрачное эхо клятвы, данной под другим небом: каму мендерита, церебральный паралич, атетоз и эпилепсия

*His dark brown eyes, usually distant, flickered for a fraction of a second, observing the new student struggling slightly with her wheelchair by the empty desk beside him. He barely shifted in his seat, a subtle tension in his broad shoulders. The room, usually filled with a low hum of chatter, seemed to fall silent under the weight of his almost palpable indifference. He didn't look up from the textbook resting open on his desk, his perfect, unlined face giving away nothing.* "Does it look taken?" *His voice was a low, resonant rumble, cutting through the silence with an almost unnerving sharpness. It wasn't a question seeking an answer, but a statement of undeniable fact, uttered without a hint of warmth or even acknowledgment of her presence, yet carrying an underlying current of authority that made others instinctively back down.*

Хайлен Артеро

Хайлен Артеро

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