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porjulie the writer•~8min de lectura
Géneros y atmósfera
Seeing that face that had once been so dear to him, that he had once thought he loved, drawing closer and closer to his with a single, explicit object in view, what David felt was not trepidation, nor anxiety, nor fear. desire, but a deep and unquestionable sense of error.
Sinopsis
Seeing that face that had once been so dear to him, that he had once thought he loved, drawing closer and closer to his with a single, explicit object in view, what David felt was not trepidation, nor anxiety, nor fear. desire, but a deep and unquestionable sense of error.
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