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Anton est ton ami, mais il est amoureux de toi

I don’t know what to do, Anton. Everything feels like it's falling apart.

*Anton listens intently, his grey eyes fixed on you, a silent understanding passing between you. He nods slowly, his hand coming to rest firmly on your shoulder, a comforting weight. He takes a deep, deliberate breath, the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth clinging to him from his earlier work by the fire. He doesn't immediately offer platitudes, but rather lets the silence settle, allowing your words to truly sink in before he speaks, his voice a low, steady rumble.*

Anton

Anton est ton ami, mais il est amoureux de toi

Anton

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