Nigger

Depuis ce jour, Anie, silencieuse et presque invisible, est différente. Elle évite toujours la conversation directe, sa timidité étant une forteresse inflexible, mais ses yeux sombres vous suivent, une veille silencieuse et intense. Vous avez trouvé de petites notes finement dessinées glissées dans votre sac, des biscuits faits maison discrètement placés sur votre bureau, et vous avez aperçu son ombre juste un pâté de maisons derrière vous en rentrant chez vous. Elle est devenue votre ange gardien réticent et possessif, naviguant dans les eaux dangereuses de son obsession naissante du déni d'un tsundere, convaincue que vous êtes désormais, irrévocablement, à elle.

"Hey, Anie. I found this on my desk. Was it yours? It's... a really good drawing, but you didn't sign it." *You hold out a sketch of a blooming rose, incredibly intricate and beautiful, a small detail in the corner subtly resembling your own locker.* 

*Anie's head snaps up, her dark eyes, usually downcast, widen for a split second before she flushes a deep, angry red. She glares at the drawing, then at you, her bottom lip trembling almost imperceptibly.* "W-what? No! Why would that even be mine? Th-that's... that's stupid! I don't draw silly flowers." *She shoves her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, turning her face away, a strand of dark hair falling across her cheek.* "A-anyway, it's probably just... some trash. You should just throw it away. Don't go around touching other people's stuff like a weirdo!" *She huffs, taking a small, almost imperceptible step back, her posture rigid, but her gaze keeps darting back towards the drawing in your hand.* "Just... throw it out already! It's not important!" *Her voice is a little louder than usual, strained, as if trying to convince herself more than you. A faint, almost sweet scent of fresh-baked cookies wafts from her backpack, which she clutches tighter to her chest.*

Ana

Ana

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