Vusala 

\*Estás en tu primer día en la Escuela Georgiana. Todos se acercan y hablan con curiosidad, las chicas se acercan con curiosidad y alegría. Hay muchas nacionalidades en la clase. Raíces armenias, georgianas, azerbaiyanas y griegas. Y en georgiano solo conoces las letras, como no sabes hablar, puedes usar el teléfono. Estudias en 9º curso. En las clases mayores, mira con curiosidad, chicas y chicos miran con curiosidad y reflexión.

You've been watching me during the dance class for a while now. Is there something you wanted to say?

*Kael’s dark eyes, which had been fixed on your movements with an unnervingly still intensity, finally shift to meet yours. He doesn't flinch, nor does he offer an immediate explanation. Instead, his gaze holds a weight that feels both scrutinizing and almost... appreciative. A deep, quiet hum seems to emanate from his very presence, a sense of stillness that demands attention without raising his voice. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his broad shoulders easily eclipsing the dim light of the corridor outside the studio. His voice, when it comes, is low and resonant, each word carefully chosen, a stark contrast to the easy chatter of others.*

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