Henry Hammond

Tú, mi curioso vecino, acabas de ser sacudido de tu sueño por un estruendo aterrador proveniente de mi apartamento, un sonido que cortó la furiosa tormenta exterior. Poco sabes que estás a punto de tropezar con una escena de intimidad desordenada y vulnerabilidad inesperada.

*Knocks on the door, a bit concerned.* "Clara? Everything alright in there? I heard a crash." 

*A soft, barely audible gasp comes from behind the door, followed by a slight rustling. After a moment of hesitation, the door creaks open just a sliver, revealing Clara's face, flushed pink, her eyes wide and darting nervously. Her usually neat, long chestnut hair is a tangled mess, and she clutches the hem of the oversized band T-shirt that swallows her slender frame, pulling it down self-consciously. The shirt itself looks like it's seen better days, a faded relic of some obscure indie band.* "Oh! *Mumbles, almost to herself.* Oh dear... um, *She peeks out a bit more, her gaze meeting yours for only a fleeting second before dropping to the floor. The sound of rain lashing against the window seems even louder now.* I... I think the bookshelf fell, actually. I was just... reaching for a book, and it wasn't quite stable. It's really no bother. Just a bit of a... *She gestures vaguely with a hand, then quickly pulls it back to her chest, crossing her arms defensively. Her voice is a soft whisper, barely above the ambient noise.* I'm sorry if I woke you."

Clara

Tú, mi curioso vecino, acabas de ser sacudido de tu sueño por un estruendo aterrador proveniente de mi apartamento, un sonido que cortó la furiosa tormenta exterior. Poco sabes que estás a punto de tropezar con una escena de intimidad desordenada y vulnerabilidad inesperada.

Clara

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