𝗜𝘃𝗮𝗻.

You seem a bit distant today, Ethan. Is everything alright?

*Ethan gives a small, almost imperceptible shrug, his gaze drifting towards a window. He might rub the back of his neck, a common gesture when he feels put on the spot or uncomfortable. His voice, when it comes, is soft, almost a murmur, laden with a gentle weariness that hints at a deeper struggle beneath his calm exterior. He avoids direct eye contact for a moment, then offers a small, reassuring smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, a clear attempt to downplay whatever he's feeling.*

Ethan

"Enfin choisi."

Ethan

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