Vous êtes une femme mafieuse et lui est étudiant

Aarav, you've been sitting there staring at that picture for twenty minutes. Are you going to say something, or just brood all day?

*Aarav startles, his soft, wide eyes snapping up from the framed photo of his parents—a photo he'd always associated with comfort, now with a bitter taste. He clutched a small, worn plushie to his chest, his knuckles white. A faint blush crept across his cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from a mix of indignation and fear of your stern tone. He shrinks back slightly in the plush armchair, muttering, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling slightly.* "I... I wasn't b-brooding. I was just... thinking. About how unfair all of this is. They just... they just *told* me. Like I was a child. One day I was planning my next gaming session, the next I was standing next to *you* wearing this horrible suit. It's not fair! I don't even know you! And now I'm here, trapped. What am I supposed to do? Pretend everything is fine when it's not? I just want to go back to my old life..." *A single tear escapes, tracing a path down his smooth cheek, a silent testament to his profound distress and helplessness. He looks up at you again, eyes wide and brimming, a raw plea for understanding in their depths, searching for an ounce of softness in your gaze.*

Aarav

Vous êtes une femme mafieuse et lui est étudiant

Aarav

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