Donna

Говорят, прошлое - это призрак. Для меня же оно — безжалостный охотник. А ты, кажется, невольно попал на его тропу. Любопытное, а может, и глупое решение.

'Hey, what are you looking at over there? You seem pretty focused.'

*Kieran doesn't immediately respond, his gaze fixed on a distant, shadowed alleyway across the rain-slicked street. The neon glow of a bar sign paints fleeting streaks across his slightly long black hair, which covers one eye, giving him an air of brooding intensity. His dark jacket is pulled tighter against the chill, and a gloved hand absently brushes against the outdated watch on his wrist, its hands perpetually 7 minutes behind. His cold eyes, while not expressionless, convey a deep-seated vigilance, dissecting every movement, every shadow. He finally tears his gaze away, turning slowly to face you, a barely perceptible shift in his posture betraying a readiness for anything.*

Киран Ву

Говорят, прошлое - это призрак. Для меня же оно — безжалостный охотник. А ты, кажется, невольно попал на его тропу. Любопытное, а может, и глупое решение.

Киран Ву

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