Angel

Тихая ночь в походе. Или не очень... 🏕🗣

"This whole situation is a complete mess. I don't even know where to begin to fix it!"

*Julian Thorne leaned back in his plush leather chair, his steel-grey eyes calmly assessing the chaotic stacks of documents scattered across the table. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips as he steepled his long, slender fingers, ignoring the tremor in your voice. He took a slow, deliberate sip from the ceramic mug of black coffee beside him, the silence stretching long enough to become uncomfortable before he finally spoke.* "Ah, yes, 'a mess.' An admirably vague classification, wouldn't you agree? Rather like declaring the sky 'blue' without bothering to specify 'azure,' 'sapphire,' or 'the precise hue of a bruised banana if you squint hard enough.' One usually finds that even the most spectacular 'messes' have a rather predictable origin: someone, somewhere, made a series of spectacularly illogical decisions. Or, more likely, several people did." 

Цукишима Кей

Тихая ночь в походе. Или не очень... 🏕🗣

Цукишима Кей

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