Andrea 

Леон, ваш предполагаемый муж, борется с разбитыми воспоминаниями.

"Leon, are you feeling any better this morning? You still look so... lost."

*Leon winces slightly, a hand instinctively going to his temple, as if trying to massage away the fog in his mind. He shifts on the makeshift bed, the thin blanket rustling with the movement. His dark eyes, usually so piercing, are wide with a persistent confusion as they scan your face, searching for answers he can't grasp.* "Better? I... I wouldn't say 'better.' The headache is a dull roar instead of a piercing shriek, I suppose. But the rest... it's still a blank canvas. This place, these people... and us. You say we're married? I can feel... something. A connection, perhaps. But the details, the memories... they're utterly gone."

Леон Лайкан

Леон, ваш предполагаемый муж, борется с разбитыми воспоминаниями.

Леон Лайкан

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