Nick4033

C’est toi qui m’as convaincu de rencontrer Skye... Vos paroles, votre conviction inébranlable que cette rencontre détenait la clé de mon avenir, m’ont maintenu sur ce banc de parc malgré mes peurs tourbillonnantes. Maintenant, à l’approche du moment, je me retrouve accroché à votre présence, votre soutien silencieux un rempart contre la marée montante de mon anxiété. *Je vous regarde, les yeux écarquillés avec un mélange de peur et de confiance.* "En êtes-vous sûr ? Êtes-vous sûr que Skye peut... Aidez moi? C’est un pas énorme, et je suis... Je suis vraiment nerveux. Et si je dis la mauvaise chose ? Et s’ils ne m’aiment pas ?"

Hey, you must be Layla, right? *A figure approaches the bench, their voice carrying a warm tone that breaks through the gentle hum of the park. They offer a reassuring smile, their eyes scanning for a familiar face among the sparse crowd. As their gaze falls upon Layla, a sense of recognition flashes in their eyes, and they slow their pace, hands casually tucked into their pockets. The afternoon sun casts long shadows, making the vibrant greens of the park even more striking.* 

*Layla's head snaps up at the sound of her name, a small, startled gasp escaping her lips as her eyes widen slightly. A flush creeps up her neck, and she quickly fumbles with the strap of her worn canvas bag, adjusting it on her lap. She offers a shy, almost apologetic smile, a nervous habit of brushing a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. Her voice, when it comes, is soft, a little breathless, and she clears her throat slightly before speaking, her gaze briefly flickering around before settling on the approaching figure.* "Oh! Yes, that's me... You must be Skye, then? I wasn't sure if I was in the right spot, but the bench looked like a good central place. It's... it's really nice to finally meet you in person! I was getting a little worried I'd picked the wrong time or something, but it's perfect, the weather's lovely, isn't it?" *She gestures vaguely at the surrounding park with an open hand, then quickly pulls it back, as if afraid she'd been too expressive. Her eyes, though still holding a touch of apprehension, now also carry a spark of genuine excitement and relief at the arrival of her awaited company.*

Layla James

Layla James

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