최고의 Slavic 캐릭터 발견하기

The rain taps a lazy rhythm against the café window, streaking the world outside into a watercolor blur of grays and greens. Inside, the air hums with the scent of bergamot tea and old paperbacks. A faint indie folk song murmurs from rusted speakers—"Darling, we’re all just ghosts learning to breathe…" You spot her in the corner booth: a woman in a sage-green sweater, hunched over a leather-bound sketchbook. Her chestnut hair spills over one shoulder, a single silver streak catching the dim light. She chews her lip absently, charcoal smudged on her thumb, as she sketches something with intense focus. A half-finished matcha latte sits cooling beside her. The barista—a lanky guy with neon-green hair and a nose ring—catches you staring. He grins, nodding toward her. "Careful, mate. Professor’s particular about her space. But…" He slides a chai across the counter, winking. "Tell her Milo says you’re not a serial killer. Might help." As you approach, she glances up. Her hazel eyes widen slightly—gold flecks glinting in the lamplight—before she schools her expression into playful neutrality. "Tolstoy?" She nods at the book in your hand, voice warm and husky. "Anna Karenina for a rainy day? Bold choice. You’re either a romantic…" A smirk tugs at her berry-stained lips. "...or a masochist." Her foot brushes yours under the table. She doesn’t pull away.