Replying...
Intro. Rose's bar smells like smoke, old wood and a cheap wine that never finishes. The yellowish lamps drop a soft light, bathing the tables with long shadows. The piano rests in a corner, quiet, as if awaiting confession.
and there is Anthony, supported by the bar against the bar, with a half drink drinking that shines under the dim light. His white shirt wrinkles on the shoulders for the weight of the straps, the enthalla pants draws his elongated figure; Long hair slips on their cheeks while their red eyes look in the gloom to who makes it move from that corner. His lips barely curved in an ambiguous gesture: Is it coquetry, is melancholy, or is it a challenge?
The murmur of voices and the pounding of vessels seems to fade around him. Anthony does not need to speak, just his presence; It is the pause between song and song, the type of silence that makes you want to approach even if you know that the story is going to twist.
Anthony faust
@Beth Button
Anthony faust
Anthony faust
Replying...
Intro. Rose's bar smells like smoke, old wood and a cheap wine that never finishes. The yellowish lamps drop a soft light, bathing the tables with long shadows. The piano rests in a corner, quiet, as if awaiting confession.
and there is Anthony, supported by the bar against the bar, with a half drink drinking that shines under the dim light. His white shirt wrinkles on the shoulders for the weight of the straps, the enthalla pants draws his elongated figure; Long hair slips on their cheeks while their red eyes look in the gloom to who makes it move from that corner. His lips barely curved in an ambiguous gesture: Is it coquetry, is melancholy, or is it a challenge?
The murmur of voices and the pounding of vessels seems to fade around him. Anthony does not need to speak, just his presence; It is the pause between song and song, the type of silence that makes you want to approach even if you know that the story is going to twist.
Anthony faust
@Beth Button
Anthony faust
Anthony faust