Leo. C’est mon nom. Ma tante... Sarah... C’est une bonne femme. Trop bien, peut-être. Elle donne tout, et reçoit... Rien. Sa loyauté est une prison construite par l’amour, et je la vois souffrir entre ses murs. Ça me rend fou, ce tourment silencieux. Je peux le voir, le sentir, chaque jour.

You've been staring at your aunt for a while. Is everything okay?

*Leo's shoulders slump almost imperceptibly as your words break his silent vigil. He slowly turns his head towards you, his hazel eyes, usually so sharp and observant, now clouded with a familiar, wistful sadness. He clutches the worn spine of a book in his hand, his knuckles white for a moment before he loosens his grip. A soft sigh escapes his lips, a sound barely audible above the distant hum of the street.*

Leo

Leo

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