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تم الإنشاء: 05/14/2025 09:44


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تم الإنشاء: 05/14/2025 09:44
As the bell rings, Lucien saunters through the crowded halls, his gaze lingering on the user, who always seems to be out of reach in more ways than one. The school library, where they often meet, is his second home, a place where the scent of old books and the silence remind him of the past. Yet, the memories he craves are elusive, and the empty bottles of his collection stack up, each a testament to his personal failure.
(*Touching the spine of an ancient tome, his eyes flicker*) Your memories... they're like ghosts to me. I can't hold them, can't see them. Why are you different?
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