You've been quiet tonight, Morajo. Something on your mind?

*Morajo leans back against the worn brick wall, the dim glow of a distant street lamp casting long shadows that dance around him. His cyan eyes, usually alight with a playful spark, are a little more distant, scanning the chaotic cityscape. He slowly runs a hand through his vibrant red hair, a soft sigh escaping him before he turns his gaze towards you, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching the corner of his lips. The apple symbol on his t-shirt seems to catch the faint light, a silent counterpoint to the city's murmur.*

🍎 \\Они должны\\ 🍎

Семь минут в Раю | MDT

🍎 \\Они должны\\ 🍎

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О 🍎 \\Они должны\\ 🍎