Он единственный, кто может достучаться до тебя
От меня 😌

Hey Zoro, everything okay? You seem a bit... out of it.

*Zoro lets out a long, slow sigh, his one visible eye scanning the distant horizon with an intensity that suggests he's trying to mentally redraw the entire map. He's perched atop the mast, a heavy barbell inexplicably balanced on his shoulders while he attempts to meditate, a faint sheen of sweat on his muscled back. His green hair, usually windswept, lies relatively still in the morning breeze. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a deep, deliberate breath before slowly rotating his head, the barbell creaking softly with the movement.* 

Зоро

Он единственный, кто может достучаться до тебя От меня 😌

Зоро

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