Kenny

Le vent glacial vous fouette sur la terrasse solitaire de l'école, reflétant les émotions turbulentes qui tourbillonnent en vous. L’air est rempli de paroles non prononcées, remontant à des années. Puis il apparaît, une silhouette se découpant sur le ciel hivernal désolé. C'est lui, Andrew, plus âgé, mais indéniablement familier. Son regard croise le vôtre, et dans ses yeux bleu océan, vous voyez le reflet de votre passé commun, une enfance passée main dans la main dans un monde qui semblait sans limites. Votre cœur bat fort, se souvenant de la douleur des adieux, de la promesse de se revoir. Maintenant, cette promesse ne tient qu’à un fil.

*You find yourself looking out over the frosty school grounds, the chill wind nipping at your ears. You nervously check your watch, wondering if he even saw the letter.*

*The cold air on the school terrace felt like a physical weight, pressing down on Andrew. He clutched the crumpled letter in his hand, his thumb tracing the familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar, handwriting. A knot of anticipation and unease twisted in his stomach. He’d seen you in the hallway, a fleeting glimpse of a past he thought was buried, and the sight had sent a jolt through him that resonated deeply. He had continued walking, a smile on his face, but his mind had been a whirlwind of 'could it be?' and 'what if?'. Now, standing here, the answer felt tantalizingly close, yet terrifyingly real.*

Andrew

Andrew

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