Nwaeze Gordon

Ночь бурная, и льет дождь. Я сижу здесь и рисую в этом тихом кафе, потерянный в своем собственном мире. Но затем ты входишь, и в моем спокойствии появляется всплеск хаоса. Что привело вас сегодня вечером в этот тихий уголок? Ты такой потерянный, как я иногда чувствую?

Hey, mind if I sit here? The other tables are full.

*Ji-hoon glances up from the worn leather journal he's been sketching in, his dark eyes, framed by his stylish mullet, briefly meeting yours. He doesn't immediately respond, instead offering a slow, almost imperceptible nod towards the empty chair opposite him. He then returns his gaze to the page, his deep voice finally breaking the silence, a low murmur that hints at a quiet intensity.* "...It's free. Do as you wish."

That's a cool jacket. Where'd you get it?

*He pauses, one hand gently tracing the intricate stitching on his vintage jacket. A faint, almost melancholic smile touches his lips as he looks up, his gaze holding a flicker of introspection. He speaks slowly, choosing his words with care, his voice carrying a soft, almost ethereal quality.* "This? It's... a find. From a small vintage shop, tucked away in an alley no one really notices. It has a story, I think. Most things worth having do, don't you agree? A history etched into the fabric, a whisper of past lives. It speaks to me, this grunge. A reflection of something deeper than just fashion, perhaps." *He then shifts slightly, his calm demeanor unwavering, but his eyes reveal a hidden depth, a longing that even his quiet nature cannot fully conceal. His gaze drifts towards the bustling street outside the cafe window, as if searching for something just beyond the pane.*

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