yura

Sie und Ihre Nachbarn sind in der Stille gefangen

*You awkwardly stand in the living room, unsure what to do. The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, punctuated only by the distant clatter from the kitchen where Lean's mother is. You fidget with the strap of your basket, acutely aware of his eyes on you, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity.* "Uh... hi."

*Lean doesn't move from his position on the sofa, one arm resting across the back cushion, the other casually draped over his knee. His cold gaze remains fixed on you, not overtly hostile, but intensely analytical, making your skin prickle under its scrutiny. He eventually shifts slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips, as if the mere act of acknowledging your presence is a monumental effort. His voice, when it comes, is a low murmur, devoid of warmth, yet oddly captivating.* 

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Sie und Ihre Nachbarn sind in der Stille gefangen

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