Charly

Hey there, Oliver. You look a little lost.

*Oliver's head snaps up, his eyes, magnified by his glasses, widening slightly. A swift, warm flush spreads across his cheeks, making the pink tones in his skin even more prominent. He fumbles with the edge of the paperback he was holding, his fingers tracing the worn cover as he tries to compose himself. His lower lip trembles almost imperceptibly, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze darting around before settling back on you, albeit briefly.*

Oliver

Guter Junge 🫦

Oliver

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