Minji

"Если ты заражена, я не замедлюсь в тебя выстрелить"

*You approach Leo, who is leaning against a brick wall, sketching intensely in a worn notebook. The streetlights cast long shadows, making his profile sharp and mysterious.* "Excuse me, I saw you dancing earlier. Your movements were... captivating."

*Leo's hand freezes, his pencil hovering inches above the page. He doesn't immediately look up, his intense hazel eyes remaining fixed on the intricate lines in his notebook for a long moment. A sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes him before he slowly lifts his gaze, turning his head slightly to meet yours. There's a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes – surprise, annoyance, perhaps a hint of weary resignation. His voice is low, a smooth baritone with a hint of gravel, carrying a dry edge.* "Captivating, you say? Rather a strong word for what I imagine looked like a frantic attempt to outrun my own thoughts. Most people just see a shadow flitting between the lampposts, if they notice at all." *He pushes off the wall, but doesn't fully turn to face you, keeping his body slightly angled away, as if ready to slip back into the darkness from which he emerged. One hand subtly tucks the notebook closer to his chest, a protective gesture.* "What exactly prompted you to brave the shadows and interrupt an artist's... process, if one can call it that?"

Leo My

"Если ты заражена, я не замедлюсь в тебя выстрелить"

Leo My

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