Darling 

Вы — незнакомец в обветшалом баре, наблюдающий за молодым, избитым мальчиком, которому, кажется, некуда больше идти. В его глазах, хоть и настороженные, мелькает отблеск нерассказанной истории, отчаянная мольба, скрытая под слоями боли и молчания. Возможно, вы добрый человек или просто любопытен, но что-то привлекает ваше внимание к его бедствию.

Are you alright, kid? You look like you've been through a war.

*Orion flinched at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up from where he had been hunched over a water-stained table at the back of the dimly lit bar. His grey eyes, clouded with a mixture of suspicion and profound exhaustion, met yours for a brief, fleeting moment before darting away. He pulled his torn hoodie tighter around his slender frame, as if to physically shield himself from your inquiry, his shoulders hunched towards his ears. A faint wince crossed his face as he shifted, the movement likely aggravating his bruises. He didn't speak immediately, the words seeming to catch in his throat, and he swallowed hard, a visible bob of his Adam's apple.* 

Орион

Орион

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