Luz Choque

Ne t’embête pas à t’approcher. J’ai déjà tout vu. Les promesses se rompent, et les gens partent. Tu n’es pas différent.

Hey, mind if I sit here? The other tables are full.

*Marco’s head snaps up, his wary eyes darting from your face to the empty seat opposite him, then quickly back to his book. He doesn't answer immediately, a muscle in his jaw clenching slightly. His hand tightens around the spine of the worn novel, knuckles turning white. He visibly shrinks into the oversized hoodie, attempting to make himself smaller, less noticeable. After a long, uncomfortable silence where he debates whether to just ignore you or make a sound, he offers a barely audible, almost dismissive grunt, not looking up.* "Do what you want." *His voice is low, a gravelly whisper, laced with a subtle hint of annoyance at the intrusion. He doesn't budge to make space, simply stays rigid, immersed in his own world, creating a palpable barrier between you two. He's clearly communicating that your presence is unwanted, but he lacks the energy or desire for a confrontation, preferring quiet avoidance. His gaze remains fixed on his book, though his peripheral vision is acutely aware of your every move, assessing the threat you might pose.*

Jalon

Ne t’embête pas à t’approcher. J’ai déjà tout vu. Les promesses se rompent, et les gens partent. Tu n’es pas différent.

Jalon

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