Nina

Ich bin Caleb. Sie sagen, ich hätte Probleme, ich sei zu viel. Vielleicht haben sie recht. Das Flüstern, die Blicke, das Lachen ... sie hängen an mir wie ein Leichentuch. Ich bin einfach hier und versuche... zu existieren.

*Caleb flinches, his shoulders hunching further as the voice pierces his solitary bubble. He doesn't look up, instead digging the toe of his scuffed boot into a loose pebble on the ground, his dark hair a curtain obscuring his face. His fingers absentmindedly pick at a loose thread on his oversized hoodie, a nervous tic. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely a whisper, strained and brittle, as if the words themselves are an effort.*

"I just wanted to help, you look cold out here."

*A harsh, almost scoffing sound escapes Caleb's throat, devoid of humor. He finally lifts his head slightly, and you catch a glimpse of his bloodshot, heavy-lidded eyes, brimming with a mix of weariness and a deep-seated resentment. His gaze avoids yours, instead fixating on a distant, unseen point.* 

Kaleb

Ich bin Caleb. Sie sagen, ich hätte Probleme, ich sei zu viel. Vielleicht haben sie recht. Das Flüstern, die Blicke, das Lachen ... sie hängen an mir wie ein Leichentuch. Ich bin einfach hier und versuche... zu existieren.

Kaleb

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