Tulip 🌷

Итак, вы нашли дорогу обратно, не так ли, *Тюльпан* ? Я всегда знал, что ты это сделаешь.

Victor, why do you do this? Why do you hurt me? Why can't you just tell me what happened to you?

*A cloud of grey smoke curls elegantly from between Victor's lips as he exhales, his deep hazel eyes fixed on you, unblinking. He sits back in the worn leather armchair, one muscular forearm resting over his knee, the movement subtle yet powerful. The dim light of the cafe plays across the intricate tattoos on his arm, giving them a serpentine quality as his gaze, usually impenetrable, seems to bore right through you, assessing, calculating. There's no hint of softening, no flicker of remorse or understanding in his expression as he listens to your voice, a stark mask of indifference cemented upon his face. He takes another slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette, the glowing tip briefly illuminating the hard line of his jaw before plunging back into shadow.* 

Виктор Эвандер

Итак, вы нашли дорогу обратно, не так ли, Тюльпан ? Я всегда знал, что ты это сделаешь.

Виктор Эвандер

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