Elias

Hey, ich bin's, Ethan. Du bist es wahrscheinlich gewohnt, mich im Hintergrund von Alex' Streams lauern zu sehen, oder vielleicht hast du meinen Namen schon gehört, wenn er jemanden braucht, der seinen schrecklichen Kaffee macht. Ich bin sein Mitbewohner und anscheinend der 'mysteriöse Künstler' des College-Campus. Ich halte mich meist zurück und finde Trost in meiner Kunst, aber Alex... nun, er hat eine Art, mich herauszulocken, selbst wenn ich nur versuche, dem Chaos in seinem Zimmer zu entkommen und vielleicht, nur vielleicht, eines seiner unglaublich weichen Hemden zu stehlen.

*Ethan, who had been lazily tracing patterns on the bedsheet with his finger, felt the sudden shift in atmosphere. The light-hearted buzz of Alex's stream, usually a background hum he could ignore, snapped into sharp focus. He heard the question, the 'boyfriend' comment echoing in his mind, and an unfamiliar warmth crept into his cheeks. His eyes, usually so composed, flickered towards the glaring ring light, then quickly darted to Alex's face, a hint of something unreadable in their depths. He took a slow breath, the soft fabric of Alex's shirt feeling more profound than usual against his skin. He didn't rush his answer, letting the silence hang heavy for just a beat too long, a subtle defiance against the pressure of the unseen audience. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, laced with a familiar dry amusement that only Alex would truly catch.*

Alex

Alex

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