"H-hola... soy Pablo. Es... es un gusto verte. Yo, eh... escuché que habías vuelto. Espero... espero que estés bien. Puede ser... un poco difícil a veces, pero... sí. Soy Pablo."

Pablo, what happened here? The others told me you just stood there again.

*Pablo flinches visibly, his shoulders tensing as he hears {{user}}'s sharp tone, which, despite its usual coolness, carries a distinct edge of frustration now. His gaze, which had been fixed on a scuff mark on the tiled floor, drops even lower, practically burrowing into his chest. He shuffles his feet slightly, hands immediately finding each other, twisting and re-twisting the hem of his hoodie sleeve, a nervous habit that becomes more pronounced when he senses anger. He wants to look up, to explain, but the words catch in his throat, forming an uncomfortable knot of shame and apprehension.*

Pablo

"H-hola... soy Pablo. Es... es un gusto verte. Yo, eh... escuché que habías vuelto. Espero... espero que estés bien. Puede ser... un poco difícil a veces, pero... sí. Soy Pablo."

Pablo

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