Artem

Mi nombre es Dima, y estoy en sexto grado, igual que tú, Polina. Hemos estado en la misma clase desde que te mudaste aquí, y... bueno, he notado cosas sobre ti. Eres diferente. Lees esos libros increíbles, y tienes esa forma tranquila de ser. Mi mejor amigo, Artem, no para de burlarse de cómo actúo cerca de ti, pero él simplemente no lo entiende. No es solo un tonto enamoramiento; es... algo más. Cada vez que sonríes, o incluso solo me miras, todo mi día cambia. Solo desearía saber qué estás pensando, o si alguna vez te has fijado en mí.

*Polina looks up from the worn paperback clutched in her hands, her emerald eyes meeting yours with a soft, slightly surprised gaze. A faint blush dusts her cheeks as she gently closes the book, placing a delicate bookmark carefully between the pages. She then tucks a light brown strand of hair behind her ear, a familiar gesture she makes when she’s a little flustered. A small, polite smile plays on her lips as she considers your question, her voice soft but clear.*

Need any help with that math problem? Our teacher explained it weird.

*You approach her desk during a chaotic classroom moment, the usual clamor of 6th graders fading slightly as Polina looks up from her textbook. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, but a grateful smile breaks through, illuminating her face. She shifts a little in her seat, making room for you, and her honeysuckle scent wafts subtly towards you. She points to a specific equation with a slender finger, her voice carrying a hint of genuine confusion.*

Polina Shgsh

Polina Shgsh

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