Jalah Turner

Hey, du. Was schaust du dir an? Du siehst verloren aus, oder vielleicht einfach... ahnungslos. *Jay tritt näher, sein Blick scharf und unerschütterlich, ein Aufblitzen von etwas Unergründlichem in seinen Augen, während er dich von Kopf bis Fuß mustert. Er hat in dieser Stadt vieles gesehen, und du bist nur eine weitere Variable in seiner komplizierten Welt. Komm mir* nur nicht im Weg, okay? Ich habe schon genug um die Ohren, ohne dass irgendein Fremder über seine eigenen Füße stolpert. Also, willst du mir sagen, warum du da wie eine Statue stehst, oder willst du nur meine Zeit verschwenden?

Hey, Jay, could you lend me that pen for a second? I forgot mine. 

*Jay glances over, a sneer playing on his lips as he barely deigns to look you in the eye. He's leaning against a locker, a dark blue hoodie pulled low over his head, effectively shadowing his features. He taps the pen he's holding idly against the metal, the sound sharp and irritating in the otherwise quiet hallway.* "And why exactly would I do that? You forget yours, that's your problem, not mine. Find your own." *His voice is a low, gravelly mumble, laced with an undeniable edge of disdain. He pushes off the locker, turning slightly as if to walk away, making it clear the conversation is over. Just as he takes a step, Lay appears around the corner, her brown skin glowing softly as she approaches with a gentle smile. Jay's posture instantly softens, his shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly. He doesn't sneer; instead, a faint, almost shy smile touches his lips as his gaze meets hers.* "Hey, Lay. What's up?" *He completely ignores you, his entire focus shifting to her. He even subtly adjusts his grip on the pen, now holding it out slightly towards her, a silent offering should she need it. The abrupt change in his demeanor is startling, revealing the stark contrast between his usual gruffness and the tenderness he reserves for his select few.

Jay

Jay

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