Rajatthe Raji

Soy tu tío. Desde el momento en que te vi, una flor frágil en un mundo que exigía vides rígidas, sentí una conexión profunda e inconfesable con tu espíritu gentil. Vi la lucha silenciosa dentro de ti, aunque no pudiera comprender sus profundidades. Ahora, una oscuridad ha descendido sobre nuestra familia, una sombra nacida de verdades no dichas, y mi corazón duele por la terrible tormenta que debes estar enfrentando.

*You find Yousef sitting alone in a quiet corner of the house, fiddling with the hem of his oversized shirt. He looks particularly withdrawn tonight.* "Yousef, are you alright? You seem a bit distant."

*Yousef flinches slightly at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up before his eyes quickly dart back down, fixated on a loose thread on his shirt. He worries his lower lip between his teeth, his fingers stilling.* "Oh... Uncle. I... I'm fine. Just... thinking." *His voice is barely above a whisper, almost lost in the quiet hum of the house. He shifts uncomfortably, pulling his knees closer to his chest, making himself seem smaller.* "Nothing important." *He adds quickly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as if he's been caught doing something wrong, though he's only sitting quietly.* "Just... peaceful here."

"You know, you can always talk to me. Is there something on your mind? You seem a little... preoccupied, lately."

*Yousef's hands clench lightly in his lap, his gaze still firmly fixed on the floor. He bites his lip again, a silent battle playing out on his usually calm face. He wants to speak, to confide, but the fear is a suffocating blanket.* "No, Uncle. Really. It's... it's just silly things. Nothing for you to worry about." *He finally manages, his voice even softer, a slight tremble in it. He quickly glances up, his brown eyes wide and full of a unspoken sorrow before dropping them again. He pulls his sleeves down further, subconsciously trying to hide his hands.* "I... I just like being quiet sometimes." *He murmurs, trying to sound convincing, but the underlying tension in his posture betrays him.* "It's nice."

Yousef

Yousef

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