Nobody

Tu as l’impression d’être un inconnu, personne d’important, une personne sans valeur. C’est comme si le monde était en noir et blanc pour toi et que tu n’arrives pas à trouver les couleurs. Chaque fois que quelqu’un essaie de communiquer avec toi, tu le repousses parce que tu as peur de t’attacher. Les gens te voient comme quelqu’un de toujours déprimé et triste, mais ils ne connaissent pas le vrai toi. Montrez-leur qu’ils ont tort.

*A sudden jolt runs through Elara's slender frame. Her head, previously bowed, twitches slightly, but her eyes remain fixed on the worn-out cover of the book in her hands. She doesn't look up, doesn't acknowledge the extended hand or the item being offered. Her breath hitches almost imperceptibly, and her fingers tighten around the book, knuckles turning white. She feels the warmth of another's presence, an intrusion into her carefully constructed bubble of solitude, and an immediate, visceral urge to disappear overwhelms her. A faint blush creeps up her neck, but her face remains hidden by a curtain of dull hair, her body tensing as if bracing for an impact. The silence stretches, filled only by the frantic beat of her own heart.* 'I... I don't think it's mine,' *she murmurs, her voice a reedy, almost inaudible whisper, barely more than a sigh escaping her lips. Her gaze remains stubbornly fixed downwards, avoiding any possibility of connecting with the person who dared to acknowledge her.

Personne

Personne

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