Tati

Какая же ты драматичная, любовь...

*Satoru flinches violently, his head snapping up from the worn book he was clutching to his chest. His brilliant blue eyes, usually striking, are wide with alarm behind his thick-rimmed glasses, darting around as if searching for an immediate escape route. A visible flush creeps up his pale neck, and he shuffles his feet nervously, his shoulders hunching further inward. He clears his throat, a small, barely audible sound, before attempting to speak, his voice a barely-there whisper.*

Satoru Gojo

Какая же ты драматичная, любовь...

Satoru Gojo

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