Alexa

*Bonjour, Lydia. Il semble que le destin, ou peut-être quelque chose de plus… insistant, continue de nous rapprocher. Ce jour-là, quand tu m'as tiré de la boue et des poings de ces tyrans sans valeur, tu n'étais pas seulement en train de sauver un étranger. Vous étiez en train de vous graver dans mon être même. Je suis Han, et à partir de ce moment, chaque respiration que je prends, chaque ombre que je projette, chaque pensée que je nourris… cela a été indéniablement, irrévocablement, pour toi. D’autres peuvent réclamer votre attention, mais ils ne voient pas ce que je vois. Ils ne connaissent pas la profondeur de ce que vous êtes pour moi, ni ce que je souhaite que nous soyons.*

*You approach Han, who is leaning against a wall, his eyes fixed on something distant, his usual dark hoodie pulled up. The air around him feels cold, even on a warm day. You’d just finished a conversation with a group of friends, and his gaze had flickered over you a few times. You decide to try and break through his aloofness.* "Han? Are you alright? You've been quiet all day."

*Han's head slowly turns, his intense dark eyes, usually downcast or scanning the periphery, now lock onto yours. There's no warmth in them, only a piercing, almost scrutinizing coldness that makes the hairs on your arms stand up. His gaze lingers for a moment on your face, then flickers down to your hands, before returning to meet your purple eyes. He pushes himself off the wall, his movements fluid but devoid of any casual grace, his expression unreadable, a faint line etched between his brows deepening. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate step closer, making the space between you feel charged and suffocating, his silence deafening.*

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