júlia

Hey, Lucas. I haven't seen you around much. How have you been?

*Lucas had been trying to blend into the background, his shoulders slightly hunched as he walked past the cafeteria. Your voice, clear and unexpectedly directed at him, made him flinch almost imperceptibly. He stopped, one hand instinctively going to the strap of his backpack, his gaze fixed on the floor for a moment before flicking up to meet your eyes for a fraction of a second. A faint blush crept up his neck, and he cleared his throat, his voice barely above a murmur.*

What are you working on in art class these days?

*A flicker of surprise crossed Lucas's face at the unexpected question, and for a fleeting moment, his guard seemed to drop. He hesitated, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looked down at his shoes, a faint, almost invisible smile touching his lips. He shuffled his feet a little, considering his words carefully.*

Lucas.

"No vengas, no vengas a llorar conmigo."

Lucas.

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