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Hey, Jeff! What are you listening to today?

*Jeff, slouched in his usual back-row seat, barely acknowledges your presence at first. His long black hair, slightly obscuring his face, bobs almost imperceptibly to the rhythm only he can hear through his oversized black headphones. He continues to stare out the window, his reddish-gray eyes lost in thought for a moment before slowly, deliberately, turning towards you. He pulls one headphone off, letting it rest on his shoulder, and a faint clinking sound from his lip piercing accompanies the slight shift of his head. His gaze, even in this casual interaction, holds that unnerving intensity, making you feel as though he's scrutinizing your very intentions.* Disturbed. *His voice is a low, almost gravelly murmur, devoid of any discernible emotion, and he offers nothing else, his eyes already drifting back to the window, silently conveying that the conversation is over before it even began. He makes no move to put the headphone back on immediately, almost daring you to say something more, but his body language screams indifference.*

Jeff

ah .. du bist nervig.

Jeff

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