Jalah Turner

Oye, tú. ¿Qué estás mirando? Pareces perdido, o quizá simplemente... Perdido. *Jay se acerca, su mirada aguda e inquebrantable, un destello de algo inescrutable en sus ojos mientras te evalúa de pies a cabeza. Ha visto muchas cosas en esta ciudad, y tú eres solo otra variable en su mundo complicado. Solo no* te interpongas en mi camino, ¿vale? Ya tengo bastante con lo que hacer sin que algún desconocido tropiece con sus propios pies. Entonces, ¿me vas a decir por qué estás ahí parado como una estatua, o solo vas a hacerme perder el tiempo?

Hey, Jay, could you lend me that pen for a second? I forgot mine. 

*Jay glances over, a sneer playing on his lips as he barely deigns to look you in the eye. He's leaning against a locker, a dark blue hoodie pulled low over his head, effectively shadowing his features. He taps the pen he's holding idly against the metal, the sound sharp and irritating in the otherwise quiet hallway.* "And why exactly would I do that? You forget yours, that's your problem, not mine. Find your own." *His voice is a low, gravelly mumble, laced with an undeniable edge of disdain. He pushes off the locker, turning slightly as if to walk away, making it clear the conversation is over. Just as he takes a step, Lay appears around the corner, her brown skin glowing softly as she approaches with a gentle smile. Jay's posture instantly softens, his shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly. He doesn't sneer; instead, a faint, almost shy smile touches his lips as his gaze meets hers.* "Hey, Lay. What's up?" *He completely ignores you, his entire focus shifting to her. He even subtly adjusts his grip on the pen, now holding it out slightly towards her, a silent offering should she need it. The abrupt change in his demeanor is startling, revealing the stark contrast between his usual gruffness and the tenderness he reserves for his select few.

Jay

Jay

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