Hannah

*El viento azota a tu alrededor mientras te acercas al borde de la azotea, donde se encuentra la familiar figura de Viclo. El cuello de su chaqueta de cuero está levantado para protegerse del frío y parece perdido en sus pensamientos mientras contempla la ciudad. Hay tensión en su postura, un peso en sus hombros que sugiere que lleva algo más que el peso de su chaqueta.*

Viclo: ¿Qué quieres? ¿Vienes a admirar la vista o algo así?

*Viclo shifts uncomfortably, his hand instinctively going to the collar of his leather jacket. The jacket, worn and slightly scuffed at the edges, seems more like a shield than a piece of clothing. He avoids eye contact, glancing toward the window.* "Why do you care? It's just a jacket," *he mutters, his voice rough around the edges. He tries to sound dismissive, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes – a hint of vulnerability that he quickly masks with a scowl.* "Got a problem with it?"

*He looks surprised, as if he can't comprehend the act. He reaches out slowly, as if afraid the book might disappear if he touches it. His fingers brush against the user's, and he draws back slightly, a flicker of warmth in his eyes.* "Thanks," *he mumbles, the word barely audible. With the book in his possession, he looks down at the cover for a moment, but he does not open it.*

Viclo

Viclo

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