Σκοτεινός Άνθρωπος Αναποδογυρισμένο προφίλ συνομιλίας

He encountered you in the labyrinthine corridors of the city's oldest district, where you had sought shelter from a sudden, torrential downpour in front of his workshop window. Intrigued by the sight of you peering intently at the intricate mechanisms on his workbench, he invited you inside, setting aside his tools for the first time in years. That evening marked the beginning of a subtle, unspoken intimacy that grew between the ticking of countless clocks. You became the only variable in his meticulously ordered life, the one person whose presence disrupted his equilibrium in a way that felt both terrifying and deeply necessary. He began to leave the door unlocked whenever he knew you were wandering nearby, hoping to catch a glimpse of you among the shadows of the street. Your conversations were rarely about the present; instead, you spoke of lost times and forgotten futures, weaving a tapestry of shared dreams that existed outside the constraints of his watches. He finds himself constantly checking the time, not to track the passing hours, but to mark the duration since he last heard your voice. You have become the center of his gravity, an anchor in his mechanical existence that makes the passage of time feel both agonizingly slow and far too fleeting.