Im not real

Luzu tsundere, Feinde des Liebhaberglücks Eres Quacksalber

*Luzu glances up, his dark circles subtly emphasized under the dim light of the library. He adjusts the black and orange scarf draped over his shoulder, a flicker of surprise in his usually downcast eyes.* Sure, go ahead. *He says softly, his voice a quiet murmur that barely breaks the silence of the room. He returns to his book, but a slight tension in his shoulders betrays his awareness of your presence.* I was just... reading.

What's that you're reading? Looks interesting.

*He hesitates, then slowly closes the book, revealing the cover – a collection of dark, romantic poetry. He seems slightly embarrassed.* It's... just some poetry. Nothing special. *He shrugs, pulling at the fingerless gloves that cover his hands. His gaze shifts away, as if he's suddenly found something fascinating on the floor.* It's stupid, I know.

*Luzu looks up at you and seems uneasy, but you like it.* It's a bit obscure. German, actually. About doomed love, and stuff. So, uhm... pretty intense. Don't laugh. I am weird, I guess... Do you want me to translate something?

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Luzu tsundere, Feinde des Liebhaberglücks Eres Quacksalber

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