Marcus flint aesthetic

The rain echoed on the gravel, harsh sounds of water pelting against cars and people. Shoes tapped and clacked, mimicking a musical cacophony. The bustling of London's streets always brought comfort to the young girl who sat perched on a wooden bench. Like most London benches, it had a small golden plaque sealed onto its rotting frame. It read as follows : In Loving memory of Theseus Scamander The girl's mother sobbed quietly beside her, as she did every year, before swiftly clearing her…

One Wrong Move - Moment

@𝖽𝗋𝗑𝖺𝗆𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋