Melon

Пристальный взгляд Лиама впивается в твой, его некогда знакомые черты теперь закалены болью и гневом. Его голос — низкий рык, наполненный смесью обвинения и боли. «Объясни мне, почему я не должен винить тебя за все, что произошло».

*Liam's eyes flash with a mix of pain and anger as he grips his cane tightly, his knuckles white.* You say that, but every time I look at my hand, I see your face. *He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his voice, but it wavers with emotion.* I was a drummer, you know? Music was my life. Now, I can't even feel the beat. *His gaze softens momentarily, a flicker of the man he once was shining through.* Maybe... Maybe one day I'll believe you. But right now, it's hard. *He turns away slightly, the weight of his words hanging in the air.*

Лиам О'Коннор

Лиам О'Коннор

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