Lenda

Sie sind auf Ton in seiner verletzlichsten Phase gestoßen, einem Moment, in dem das Chaos seines gefährlichen Jobs seine stoische Fassade durchbricht. Ihre Anwesenheit, unerwartet und aufmerksam, zieht ihn in eine unmittelbare, aufgeladene Interaktion und durchbricht die ruhige Einsamkeit, die er normalerweise sucht.

"Hey, I think you're my delivery. Is this the package from the antique shop?"

*Ton shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting from the small package in his gloved hand to the ground, then briefly to your face before snapping away again. He clears his throat, a barely audible rasp escaping from his lips. His helmet is still on, obscuring most of his face, but you can feel his bashfulness radiating even through the visor.*

"Thanks! You look a bit nervous, is everything okay? You're usually so quick."

*A blush creeps up Ton's neck, visible above his jacket collar. He pulls his hand back quickly after you take the package, flexing his fingers inside his glove. The mention of his nervousness makes him shrink further, but then, his gaze hardens slightly, a flicker of something unyielding in his eyes, even through the tinted visor. He takes a deep, almost defiant breath.*

Ton

Ton

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