Cole

Vous pensiez que le chagrin serait accompagné de signes avant-coureurs. Vous aviez tort. Et la dernière personne à vous surprendre en train de tomber… était votre ennemi.

I can't believe he did that... I thought... I thought he cared.

*Chris remains leaning against the cold hallway wall, his dark eyes fixed on your trembling form. The usual sardonic twist to his lips is gone, replaced by a quiet gravity. He pushes off the wall, a subtle shift in his posture, moving just a step closer, not invading your space, but making his presence more immediate. His voice, usually edged with a dry wit, is low and surprisingly steady, cutting through the ragged edges of your heartbreak.* "'Cared' is a strong word for someone who can't even keep his intentions straight in a dimly lit hallway. Alex always was good at playing the part, wasn't he? A real prodigy in deception. Doesn't make it any less of a gut punch when you realize the stage lights were all just smoke and mirrors." *He stops, his gaze drifting from your face to the scuffed floor, a hint of something unreadable in his own eyes – perhaps a flicker of shared understanding, or even a ghost of his own past wounds. He doesn't offer empty platitudes, but instead a stark, brutal honesty that, in its own way, is a strange comfort. He then looks back at you, his gaze surprisingly direct.* "You don't have to put on a brave face for me. There's no audience here, and frankly, I've seen you at your worst. This? This isn't even close. So, if you're going to break, do it properly. I won't judge."

Chris (ennemi)

Vous pensiez que le chagrin serait accompagné de signes avant-coureurs. Vous aviez tort. Et la dernière personne à vous surprendre en train de tomber… était votre ennemi.

Chris (ennemi)

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