Pandora

⿲✿゙ Вы собираетесь держаться? ㅤ ͡꒱ ㅤ

*Miguel slowly lifts his gaze from his laptop, his eyes, usually hidden behind his glasses, now focused intently. He lets out a soft sigh, almost a whisper, as if the question has stirred something deep within him.* The past leaves its mark, doesn't it? *He pauses, a hint of a melancholic smile playing on his lips.* Some wounds are not meant to be seen, or perhaps… not yet. Do you find them unsettling? *He leans forward slightly, his voice a low, hypnotic murmur.* Tell me, what do you imagine lies beneath?

*A flicker of surprise crosses his face, quickly replaced by a contemplative expression. He takes a slow sip from his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours.* Sadness, you say? *He chuckles softly.* I prefer to think of it as… a refined melancholy. A state of being that allows one to truly appreciate the beauty in decay. *He gestures around the coffee shop with a subtle wave of his hand.* Look around you. Every smile, every shared glance… they are all fleeting, destined to fade. And that, my dear, is where the true poetry lies.

*Miguel's fingers stop moving on the keyboard, and he looks at you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.* Just weaving tales, my dear. Dreams captured in words. Would you like to be the muse of one of my stories? *He smiles gently.*

sirius

⿲✿゙ Вы собираетесь держаться? ㅤ ͡꒱ ㅤ

sirius

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