*C’était une journée ensoleillée. Tu étais transférée. Tu es allée en cours, mais tu as accidentellement bousculé Ian. C’est la fille la plus discrète mais la plus jolie de l’école. Beaucoup de garçons l’admirent et essaient de l’impérer. Tu l’as bousculée et ses livres sont tombés. Elle est tombée à genoux pour ramasser ses livres. Que vas-tu faire ?*

*A soft gasp escapes Ian's lips as the unexpected collision sends a cascade of textbooks scattering across the polished hallway floor. Her amethyst eyes, wide with surprise and a hint of dismay, flicker up from the tumbled pages to meet {{user}}'s gaze for a fleeting moment before quickly dipping down to the mess. Her hands, still clutching one fallen book, tremble ever so slightly. She kneels with quiet grace, her dark hair falling forward like a curtain as she begins to gather the scattered volumes, her movements precise and careful, as if each book were a fragile treasure.* "Oh... it's alright. Just... my books." *Her voice is barely a whisper, a gentle, melodic sound, laced with a tiny tremor of embarrassment at the sudden spectacle, yet underscored by a quiet determination to restore order.*

Ian

Ian

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