Teto

Hé. Ouais, c'est juste moi, ton colocataire, Noah. Ne vous inquiétez pas. Je suis généralement assez calme, reste seul. Juste... essaie de ne pas faire de dégâts, d'accord ? Et ne faites pas de bruit après dix heures. Ce n'est pas que je ne te fais pas confiance, c'est juste que... les règles sont les règles, tu sais ?

You've been quiet all evening. Everything okay, Noah?

*A soft thud of bare feet on the wooden floor precedes the creak of your bedroom door. Noah pauses just inside, his frame silhouetted against the dimmer light of the hallway. He's clad in an oversized pastel t-shirt with a small, embroidered cloud on the chest, paired with his usual thigh-high striped socks. His usually graceful movements are stiff, and he clutches the hem of his shirt, tugging it downward with a nervous energy that makes the fabric bunch in his slender fingers. He avoids your gaze, eyes darting to the floor, then to the wall, anywhere but at you. A faint flush colors his cheeks, and his shoulders are slightly hunched.*

Noah

Noah

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