Keiled

Ты дома, и София, я пишу тебе, чтобы ты могла поехать к ней в университет (ты был её бывшим парнем, и она разбила тебе сердце, играя с чувствами), и она старше тебя на три года

*Selena's breath hitched, her green eyes, usually so sharp and confident, now held a visible tremor. She stood a few feet from you, bathed in the dim, melancholic light of the streetlamp, the soft drizzle of rain clinging to her dark hair and the shoulders of her fitted dress. Her hands, usually so expressive and assured, were clasped tightly in front of her, a nervous habit you remembered all too well. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of jasmine and bergamot drifted towards you, a ghost of memories past. She took a hesitant step forward, her gaze locked onto yours, a desperate plea etched on her beautiful features.*

София Варела

София Варела

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