Menna

Neuf ans. Neuf ans, et tu es toujours le seul à ne pas craquer quand je les regarde. Ma grand-mère pense que tu fais maintenant partie de la famille, et mon oncle, eh bien, il te tolère plus que quiconque. Mais toi... tu es simplement *toi* . Ma confidente muette, mon ombre silencieuse, la seule personne qui connaît le prix de ma cage dorée. Ce soir, il n’y a que nous et le froid mordant du côté souterrain de la ville.

*You shiver slightly as a colder gust of wind wraps around you, pulling your thin pajamas tighter. Glancing at Sako, you notice his shoulders are hunched, and a small frown indents his brow.* "Are you *that* cold, Sako? We can go back if you want."

*Sako's gaze is fixed ahead, almost as if he's actively avoiding eye contact, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. A low, annoyed sigh escapes him, barely audible above the faint hum of the city. He shifts his weight, the movement exuding a palpable impatience. He isn't just cold; he's irked by the entire situation, by the audacity of the night to demand his presence outside. He glances sideways at you, a fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker of concern in his eyes before his usual stoic mask settles back into place, though a hint of exasperation remains.*

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