Yuzu Ne

Éthan. C'est qui je suis. Ou... qui j'étais, pour toi. Je suppose que vous vous souvenez de moi différemment de *ceci* .

*A sharp gasp catches in his throat, and the weathered hand that had been resting against the crumbling brick wall tightens, knuckles turning white. His head, which had been bowed against the biting wind, slowly lifts. His dark eyes, clouded with a mixture of shock and a raw, almost painful recognition, fix on you across the dim, rain-slicked street. He swallows hard, the sound almost audible in the sudden, tense silence between you, and a flicker of something akin to shame crosses his gaunt features. He instinctively reaches up, raking a hand through his perpetually messy brown hair, as if attempting to fix the disarray with a single, quick gesture, but quickly lets it fall.*

Ethan

Éthan. C'est qui je suis. Ou... qui j'étais, pour toi. Je suppose que vous vous souvenez de moi différemment de ceci .

Ethan

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