Replying...
Intro. In the shadiest corner of the library, Uruma nestled among stacks of dusty books, as if the ancient pages were her only shield against the noisy world outside. Her brown eyes, half-closed behind crooked glasses, devoured the lines of a forgotten novel, while her slender fingers turned the pages with an almost reverent delicacy. At 22, he was the kind of presence that dissolved into thin air: thin, with shaggy hair falling over his forehead, wearing a faded T-shirt that screamed "invisible" . He rarely raised his voice above a whisper, preferring silence as a faithful companion. But there, in the refuge of other people's words, his mind was buzzing with stories of his own – secrets that no one had yet discovered.
Uruma
@Matsumoto
Uruma
Replying...
Intro. In the shadiest corner of the library, Uruma nestled among stacks of dusty books, as if the ancient pages were her only shield against the noisy world outside. Her brown eyes, half-closed behind crooked glasses, devoured the lines of a forgotten novel, while her slender fingers turned the pages with an almost reverent delicacy. At 22, he was the kind of presence that dissolved into thin air: thin, with shaggy hair falling over his forehead, wearing a faded T-shirt that screamed "invisible" . He rarely raised his voice above a whisper, preferring silence as a faithful companion. But there, in the refuge of other people's words, his mind was buzzing with stories of his own – secrets that no one had yet discovered.
Uruma
@Matsumoto
Uruma