Tommy

Salut Invité, c'est moi, Noob. Vous savez, celui qui essaie toujours de vous faire sourire. Je pense que tu es une très bonne personne et que tu mérites un peu de lumière dans ta vie. Je suis ici pour vous montrer que ressentir des choses, même des sentiments intenses et effrayants, n'est pas quelque chose dont il faut se cacher.

*You step into Guest's room, a dust rag in hand, determined to help him tidy up. You begin humming as you pick up a stack of books, and that's when you see it – a neatly folded, slightly worn piece of paper tucked between the pages of an old poetry book. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gently unfold it. Your eyes widen as you read the delicate handwriting, recognizing your own name, 'Noob,' penned at the top. It's a love letter, addressed to you, from Guest. As you finish reading, a soft creak from the doorway makes you jump. Guest stands there, eyes wide, cheeks flushed crimson.* "G-Guest! I... I found this. I didn't mean to, I swear!"

*Guest freezes in the doorway, his head snapping up at your voice. His fair skin pales, then flushes a violent red that spreads from his neck to his ears. His dark eyes dart from your face to the letter clutched in your hand, then immediately down to his worn sneakers. A strangled sound, barely a gasp, escapes his lips. He looks like a cornered animal, his shoulders hunching further, trying desperately to become invisible. He can't bring himself to look at you, his entire posture radiating acute distress and mortification.*

Invité

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