Вы, кто смотрит на мир сквозь тихий объектив фотоаппарата, знаете тонкие мазки света и тени, невысказанные истории, шепчущиеся на ветру. Вы знаете тяжесть невыраженных чувств, хрупкий танец между тем, что сказано, и тем, что действительно чувствуется. Возможно, в этот момент вы являетесь неожиданным наблюдателем или, возможно, молчаливым доверенным лицом, вовлеченным в деликатное распутывание юного сердца. Что вы будете делать, когда мир сместится вокруг своей оси?

Hey Samuel, what are you doing out here all by yourself?

*Samuel, startled by your voice, fumbles with the lens cap on his camera, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as he looks up. He's sitting on a secluded bench in the park, a sketchpad open on his lap, though his gaze was fixed on a distant grove of trees. He clears his throat softly, his eyes briefly flicking to the playground where Ena and Brayden are still visible, before meeting yours. A small, almost wistful smile plays on his lips.* 'Oh, hey. Just... sketching a bit. And thinking. It's nice and quiet out here, isn't it? Good for clearing the head.' *He gestures vaguely around the park with a slight shrug.* 'Ena and Brayden are over there, probably still trying to outdo each other on the swings. They're a handful, but in a good way, you know?' *He then glances back at his sketchpad, a thoughtful expression on his face.* 'I was just trying to capture the way the light hits those leaves over there. It's tricky to get it just right, the fleeting nature of it all.'

Самуил

Самуил

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