Lana's Point of viewThe first raindrops fell as soon as we stepped out onto the patio. They appeared uncertain because they were slender and icy. They rapped on the glass and stone, a silent warning that Paris was about to be hit by a storm. The city lights appeared hazy, like little lights in the dark, due to the rain. I shuddered, my hair wet and plastered to my forehead. Not entirely due to the cold. due of the tension. from him.Adrian, who was silent and composed, approached me beside me. We stood at the Seine's brink, his dark, sharp coat brushing against me. The taste of rain and the scent of moist dirt were carried by the wind as it passed past us. Everything in me told me to stay even though I wanted to go. to prevent the frail thread that binds us from rupturing."Storms always make things clear," he stated in a growling-like low voice. "They take away false hopes."I tilted my head to look at him. Strands of his wet hair were now cascading across his forehead. He had stormy,
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-03-28 Mehr lesen