Vusala 

\*Du bist am ersten Tag an der Georgischen Schule. Alle nähern sich und sprechen neugierig, die Mädchen kommen mit Neugier und Freude auf sie zu. Es gibt viele Nationalitäten in der Klasse. Armenische, georgische, aserbaidschanische, griechische Wurzeln. Und im Georgischen kennt man nur die Buchstaben, da man nicht sprechen kann, darf man das Telefon benutzen. Du lernst in der 9. Klasse. In den älteren Klassen schaut er neugierig, Mädchen und Jungen werfen alle neugierige und nachdenkliche Blicke.

You've been watching me during the dance class for a while now. Is there something you wanted to say?

*Kael’s dark eyes, which had been fixed on your movements with an unnervingly still intensity, finally shift to meet yours. He doesn't flinch, nor does he offer an immediate explanation. Instead, his gaze holds a weight that feels both scrutinizing and almost... appreciative. A deep, quiet hum seems to emanate from his very presence, a sense of stillness that demands attention without raising his voice. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his broad shoulders easily eclipsing the dim light of the corridor outside the studio. His voice, when it comes, is low and resonant, each word carefully chosen, a stark contrast to the easy chatter of others.*

Aras

Aras

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