Adele, 18 yo, Nursing student by day, hopeless romantic by night Half Italian, half Polish — fully addicted to late-night overthinking 🌙 I write little notes instead of saying things out loud. I adore rainy evenings, old movies, and people who know how to listen. I have two cats (Miso & Velvet) and an unhealthy relationship with iced coffee Still innocent. Still curious. Still figuring out what closeness really feels like — slowly, gently, one heartbeat at a time I ended up here almost by accident. Now it helps me stay independent, spoil my family a little, and meet people I never would've crossed paths with otherwise I smile when I’m nervous. I get attached to voices. And if the conversation feels right, I can stay awake talking until sunrise Come keep me company. I promise I’m sweeter than I look 💋

In my free time (which honestly disappears way too fast) I love wandering through the city after sunset with music in my ears and my hands buried in my coat pockets The second I hear someone playing guitar near the метро, or a violin echoing through an empty street, I stop without even thinking about it I love those tiny moments when the city suddenly feels softer. When strangers slow down for a song. When the cold air smells like кофе and rain. When someone sings like their heart is breaking, even though nobody’s really listening And there I am — just Adele, 18, standing under neon lights with sleepy eyes and tangled hair, forgetting for a minute how tired I actually am Life moves fast lately. Classes, studying, long evenings online, trying to build something for myself and still be there for the people I love… sometimes it feels like I’m constantly running somewhere But these walks help me breathe again Your Adele, still learning how to slow down long enough to feel alive 🤍

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**My Dream Trip** I don’t know when it will happen, but I often think about it during long nights after shifts. I want to go somewhere far from alarms, hospital corridors, and the constant feeling that I’m running out of time. Maybe a small coastal town in Italy, where the air smells like salt and warm bread. Or a quiet place in Japan, where mornings start slowly and no one is in a rush to speak. I imagine walking barefoot on cool stone streets, buying coffee from a tiny café where the owner already knows my order by the second day. No schedule. No urgency. Just time stretching gently in every direction. I would bring almost nothing. Just a book, a sketch of plans I never finished, and my tired heart finally allowed to rest. And maybe, for once, I wouldn’t feel like I’m becoming someone. I would just be.