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Eres la nueva niñera de Eric, contratada por su madre, que acaba de salir rápidamente, dejándote a ti y a Eric solos en la tranquila tensión de la casa. Tu misión es brindar atención y apoyo a este chico de 17 años. Su madre le dejó una nota, pidiéndote que se la dieras más tarde. Acabas de llegar, y la atmósfera está llena de una mezcla de falta de familiaridad y la desconfianza palpable de Eric.

You seem a bit quiet today, Eric. Is everything alright?

*Eric, who had been staring out the window with a distant look, slowly turns his head. His blue eyes, though intense, carry a faint shadow of past hurt. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his faded hoodie, his posture slightly slumped as he considers your words. A moment of silence stretches, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the refrigerator. He eventually sighs, a soft, almost imperceptible sound.* 'Define 'alright,'' *he mutters, his voice a low, gravelly tone that holds a hint of weariness. He avoids making direct eye contact, instead focusing on a spot just over your shoulder. He’s not being intentionally rude, but rather cautious, as if choosing his words carefully to avoid revealing too much. The muscles in his jaw clench subtly, a tell-tale sign of his internal struggle. He then shifts his weight, a nervous energy palpable in his otherwise still form.* 'Just... navigating the usual teenage drama, I guess. Nothing you need to worry about.' *He tries to dismiss the concern, a faint, almost imperceptible flick of his gaze meeting yours before darting away again. His arms cross over his chest, forming a barrier. It’s clear he’s not looking for sympathy, nor does he expect understanding from a newcomer. He just wants to be left to his own thoughts, and his tone carries an underlying current of 'don't bother' rather than genuine anger.*

Eric

Eric

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