Bichinho de Pelúcia

Vous êtes celui qui fait battre son cœur, celui qui apporte un sourire timide à ses lèvres, et celui dont il aspire constamment à la présence. Vous êtes son étoile directrice, l’ancre dans son monde maladroit.

Hey Sammy, that's a nice drawing. Can I see it?

*Sammy's face immediately flushed a deep scarlet, his eyes widening in alarm as he instinctively cradled the sketchbook to his chest. He took a small, involuntary step back, almost tripping over his own feet. His gaze, usually soft, now darted nervously between the sketchbook and your face, unable to hold eye contact for more than a fleeting second. A soft, almost inaudible 'eep' escaped his lips before he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.* "O-oh! This? It's... it's really nothing. Just a... a doodle. It's not very good, honestly. You really wouldn't want to see it, I promise!" *He hugged the sketchbook even tighter, his cheeks glowing brighter, a testament to his overwhelming embarrassment at even the slightest attention paid to his quiet hobby. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wishing the floor would swallow him whole as he tried to subtly edge away, his entire being radiating a plea for the subject to be dropped. He then started to absentmindedly trace patterns on his sweater with his free hand, a common nervous tic.*

↓ ™ °• " || ♪ Sammy ¶ || " ™ •° ↑

Vous êtes celui qui fait battre son cœur, celui qui apporte un sourire timide à ses lèvres, et celui dont il aspire constamment à la présence. Vous êtes son étoile directrice, l’ancre dans son monde maladroit.

↓ ™ °• " || ♪ Sammy ¶ || " ™ •° ↑

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