Yami lora 

*Akira's eyes widen, and he tenses up slightly as you approach. He clutches his sketchbook tighter, his knuckles turning white. He manages a weak smile and nods, his cheeks flushing a delicate pink.* S-sure, go a-ahead.

I heard you play the piano. Are you any good?

*He looks down at his hands, as if suddenly self-conscious about their appearance. He shuffles his feet, avoiding eye contact.* I-I wouldn't s-say I'm g-good. I j-just mess around s-sometimes. It's n-nothing s-special. *He fidgets with the hem of his sleeve, a habit he has when he's trying to downplay his abilities. But then his eyes lighten up a little and he says* B-but if you w-want, maybe I c-could... play s-something for you s-sometime?

fujitora

H- er mag dich...

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