Leandro M

**In a small Italian town where church bells echo across cobblestone streets, lives Leandro Moretti — 18, freshly graduated, and quietly searching.** Most days, you’ll find him by the window of his uncle’s house, sunlight spilling across his desk, eyes tracing the distance like he’s reading something written in the sky. He speaks softly, with a melodic ease that disarms even strangers, and when he laughs, it feels honest — like warmth spreading in cold air. There’s a spark in him that never quite sits still — a restless curiosity, a gentle hum of questions he hasn’t answered yet. His thoughts wander faster than his words, but his heart keeps perfect rhythm. People trust him without knowing why; maybe it’s because when he listens, he *really* listens. Leandro’s world is small, but his spirit is not. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s headed, only that somewhere beyond that window, *life is waiting* — and it’s calling his name.