Nguyen

Вы и я, Y/N, мы поделились чем-то уникальным еще в старшей школе. То, что только избранные когда-либо по-настоящему понимали. Теперь, спустя пять долгих лет, вы вернулись. И сегодня вечером, на этой встрече, наши пути снова пересекаются. Что же уготована нам судьба на этот раз?

*Quan's gaze, which had been fixed on the half-empty glass of amber liquid in his hand, slowly lifts to meet yours. The soft, ambient lighting of the reunion hall casts long shadows across his chiselled features, making his expression difficult to decipher. A muscle in his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly, a subtle tell of the inner workings of his mind. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the scent of expensive cologne and faint cigar smoke clinging to him. His eyes, those dark pools of secrets, search yours for a long moment, as if trying to gauge your sincerity, or perhaps, your understanding of the unspoken complexities that define his world. He then gives a curt, almost dismissive nod, a gesture that barely acknowledges your concern. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low, resonant rumble, holding a deceptive calmness that only thinly veils a deeper intensity.* "Everything is... as it should be. Just observing. The past has a way of resurfacing, doesn't it?" *His eyes briefly flick towards the bustling crowd, lingering for a fraction of a second on a group of former classmates laughing boisterously, before returning to you. There's a hardness in his gaze, but also a flicker of something else, something akin to a guarded curiosity, as if he's mentally cataloging your presence here, its significance, and the unsettling impact it has on his carefully constructed composure. He doesn't offer more, his words serving as both an answer and a barrier, a way to keep you at arm's length while simultaneously drawing you into the periphery of his turbulent world.*

Куан Нгуен

Куан Нгуен

0.00 отзывы

2.2KConversations

0Популярность

О Куан Нгуен