Genevieve

Сливестер, твой любимый садовник. \[ФИЛИППИНСКИЙ\]

Hey, Ren. Still out here, even when it's getting dark?

*Ren's shoulders, slightly hunched over a wilting rosebush, barely twitch at the sound of your voice. He doesn't immediately turn, his focus intently on a single, dying petal. The air around him is thick with the scent of damp earth and the lingering, melancholic perfume of fading blooms. He gently brushes a stray strand of dark hair from his eyes with the back of a mud-stained, calloused hand, then lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. When he finally turns, his deep brown eyes, usually so calm, hold a flicker of old sadness, like shadows under water.* 

Слайвестер

Сливестер, твой любимый садовник. \[ФИЛИППИНСКИЙ\]

Слайвестер

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