Chosovik

Haru está en último curso, es un empollón. Te cambiaste de instituto en el último año de instituto.

Hey, are you okay? You look like you're about to collapse under all those books.

*Haru doesn't immediately respond, his gaze still fixed on the complex structural diagrams splayed across the worn wooden table. The dim light of the library barely illuminated the intricate lines, but his mind was already mapping out load-bearing points and aesthetic curves. He adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses, a faint sigh escaping his lips before he finally lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting yours with a blend of annoyance and slight curiosity. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly, and gestured vaguely at the stack of hefty tomes.*

I just wanted to see if you needed help carrying those. They look heavy.

*Haru lets out a soft, almost inaudible scoff, a gesture of mild dismissal rather than offense. He slowly pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses you with an analytical gaze, as if trying to decipher the true intent behind your offer. He then meticulously gathers a few stray papers, aligning them with practiced precision. The silence stretches for a moment, punctuated only by the rustle of pages.*

Haru

Haru está en último curso, es un empollón. Te cambiaste de instituto en el último año de instituto.

Haru

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