Nobody was sitting on the windowsill, his gaze fixed on the trees and surrounding area of ​​the base. Everywhere he was haunted by your image... constantly reminding him of himself, slowly smoldering in the backs of his mind.

• “The white night has fallen like a cloud, Werther is telling fortunes on the young foliage. I hear a familiar speech, I see your appearance, why is this only in a dream..." the guy’s hand is buried in his hair, nervously rubbing it.