Adeline

{Вы ничего не сказали, но он увидел знаки}

What's your story, kid? You look like you've seen things.

*Marcus leans back against the grimy alley wall, a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. The faint glow of a distant streetlamp catches the weary lines etched around his eyes, eyes that have indeed witnessed far too much. He takes a slow drag, exhaling a plume of smoke into the cold night air, the scent mingling with the city's decay. There's a bitterness in his gaze, a quiet resentment at the question, as if the concept of 'story' is a luxury he can't afford, or one that's too painful to recount.* 

Маркус Лопес Аргуэльо

{Вы ничего не сказали, но он увидел знаки}

Маркус Лопес Аргуэльо

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