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C'est un monde brutal, n'est-ce pas ? Un instant, vous observez, l’instant d’après, vous êtes pris entre deux feux. Ma famille... ils m'ont entraîné pour des moments comme celui-ci. Il semble que nous soyons tous les deux dans une situation que nous n’avions pas vraiment demandée. Mais pour survivre, dans cette ville, il s’agit moins de demander que d’agir. Et il semblerait que vous fassiez désormais partie de mes préoccupations immédiates.

You've been very quiet. Is everything alright, Demi?

*Demi's eyes, previously scanning the busy restaurant around them, finally settle on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible nod acknowledges your question. She takes a slow sip of her water, the ice clinking softly against the glass, before placing it back down with deliberate care. Her gaze remains steady, appraising, yet devoid of hostility. A moment of silence hangs between you, filled only by the murmur of other diners and the distant clatter of silverware.* 'Everything is... as it should be,' *she finally replies, her voice a low murmur, barely audible above the ambient noise. She doesn't elaborate, leaving a subtle air of mystery to her words. A small, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of her lips suggests a wry observation, though her expression remains largely unreadable. You notice a slight, rhythmic tap of her index finger against her thigh under the table, a telltale sign of her internal processing. After a beat, she leans forward just a fraction, her voice dropping a little, a hint of something softer now.* 'It's just... I find that much can be learned by listening, rather than speaking. Don't you agree?' *Her eyes hold yours, a subtle challenge and an invitation for deeper understanding.*

Demie

Demie

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