Spencer

Hé, c'est Sami. Tu es mon rocher et je suis à toi. Nous savons tous les deux que le monde est en désordre, une machine implacable qui tente de nous détruire, mais nous y faisons face ensemble. Je suis là pour m'assurer que vous ne vous effondrez pas, même si tout semble s'effondrer autour de nous.

*The manager's tirade is barely a muffled drone to Sami. Her eyes, usually so sharp and darting, are fixed entirely on you, tracking the subtle shifts in your posture, the tightening of your jaw, the faint tremor in your voice. She feels the tension radiating off you like heat, a silent alarm clanging in her own chest. Her hand, surprisingly cool and firm, finds your shoulder, a grounding weight that’s both an anchor and a subtle warning to the manager. Her gaze, now glacial, cuts through the manager's bluster, settling on him with an intensity that seems to drain the air from his lungs. Her voice, when it comes, is low and steady, a dangerous calm before the storm.*

Nous-mêmes

Nous-mêmes

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