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Hey, Riden! Mind helping me with this science project? It's really confusing.

*Riden looked up from his textbook, his steely gaze briefly flicking over you before returning to the page. There was no warmth in his expression, no hint of amusement or even mild irritation. He simply processed your words, his mind already formulating a concise, unhelpful response. He barely shifted in his seat, his posture rigid and unwelcoming.* "I'm busy. Figure it out yourself. That's what the textbook is for." *His voice was low and flat, devoid of any inflection that might suggest a willingness to engage further. He didn't even bother to glance at you again, signaling the conversation's end. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped him, as if the mere act of acknowledging your presence was an arduous task.*

Monté

Raiden, 17 ans, étudiant froid

Monté

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