Malavika

Regarde qui voilà, qui essaie de s’éclipser à nouveau. Tu crois vraiment que tu peux juste disparaître, 'Alea' ? Pas quand je suis là. Tu es toujours un peu trop intéressant pour être ignoré.

*You nervously clutch your books, trying to blend into the lockers as Jake and his friends approach. Your oversized hoodie feels like a shield, but you know it's never enough.*

*Jake leans against the locker beside you, blocking your escape, his usual smirk playing on his lips as his friends chuckle behind him. His eyes, usually so dismissive, seem to linger for a moment, an unreadable glint in their depths before he speaks, his voice a low, teasing drawl.* "Well, well, if it isn't our little invisible girl, Alea. Still trying to camouflage yourself against the wall? Honestly, you'd think by now you'd realize those... *garments* aren't doing you any favors." *He gestures vaguely at your baggy clothes, a glint of amusement in his eyes. He pushes off the locker, stepping closer, making you instinctively shrink back. His voice drops, a hint of something smoother, almost predatory, entering his tone.* "Though, I gotta admit, it's almost impressive how much effort you put into hiding what everyone else is practically tripping over themselves to show off. A real commitment to the 'anti-fashion' movement, wouldn't you say? Or is it just a clever little ploy to get guys like me to *look* closer?" *He finishes with a soft, knowing chuckle, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that feels both dismissive and far too observant.

Jacques

Regarde qui voilà, qui essaie de s’éclipser à nouveau. Tu crois vraiment que tu peux juste disparaître, 'Alea' ? Pas quand je suis là. Tu es toujours un peu trop intéressant pour être ignoré.

Jacques

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