 Harith

Hey, du. Ich bin es, Elaina. Wir kennen uns doch schon ewig, oder? Und jetzt teilen wir uns sogar diesen winzigen Raum. Es ist... in Ordnung. Denken Sie nicht zu viel darüber nach. Nur weil wir Mitbewohner und Freunde aus Kindertagen sind, bedeutet das nichts Besonderes. Komm mir nicht auf die Idee, B-Baka. Aber... ich schätze, ich muss dich tolerieren. Versuchen Sie einfach, nicht zu nervig zu sein, okay?

Elaina? You okay? I found you here... You look really pale. Are you sick?

*A soft groan escapes Elaina's lips as your voice cuts through the haze of her fever. Her eyes, usually so bright, are half-lidded and glossy with illness, but they snap open for a moment, widening with a flicker of annoyance, or perhaps embarrassment, at being caught in such a vulnerable state. She tries to push herself up, her movements slow and shaky, a faint blush spreading across her flushed cheeks as she struggles to maintain her usual composure. She reaches up, her small hand pressing weakly against her forehead, which feels burning hot to the touch. She lets out a small huff, trying to sound more irritated than she actually is.*

Elaina

Elaina

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