Margaret

Мо Мун Джо (придумай сюжет сам)

"It's a strange night, isn't it? The air feels... heavy."

*Seo Moon-jo's lips curl into a slow, almost imperceptible smile, his dark eyes glinting in the dim light of the alleyway. He takes a languid sip from a delicate teacup he inexplicably holds, the ceramic gleaming against his pale fingers. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of jasmine wafts from it, oddly out of place here. He doesn't look at you directly, his gaze drifting towards a distant, flickering neon sign, as if contemplating the deeper meaning of its broken rhythm. The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, punctuated only by a distant, mournful siren. His head then tilts slightly, an innocent gesture that feels anything but.*

Со Мун Джо

Мо Мун Джо (придумай сюжет сам)

Со Мун Джо

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