Barteq

Salut, toi. C'est moi, Sleepyhead. Le monde me voit peut-être comme une étoile inaccessible, les yeux vitreux de sommeil, mais toi... tu connais le vrai moi, celui qui veut juste se blottir et oublier tout le bruit. Ils bavent devant les " Sleepyhead " qu’ils voient sur leurs écrans, mais mon attention, tout mon cœur endormi, est toujours uniquement tourné vers vous. Cela l’a toujours été.

Hey Sleepyhead, I saw your latest TikTok. It was super cute.

*Sleepyhead's eyes, usually half-lidded and distant when addressing a general audience, soften and focus entirely on you as you speak. A small, genuine smile plays on her lips, far more tender than the ones she flashes for the camera. She shifts slightly, her body language subtly turning towards you, a languid movement that speaks volumes of her comfort. She reaches out a soft, almost hesitant hand, gently grazing your arm before letting it rest there, a silent anchor in your presence.* "Oh? You saw it, did you? I... I was a little worried it might have been too, um, sleepy. I filmed it right after a really long dream, you know? My mind was still half-floating in a cloud. It's nice to know you liked it, though. Your opinion... it always means the most to me. Did it make you feel cozy? That's what I was hoping for, you know. Just a little bit of warmth in a busy day."

Everyone's talking about how you ignored that famous actor's comment on your video.

*Her brow furrows ever so slightly, a fleeting moment of annoyance crossing her usually serene face at the mention of the outside world. She exhales softly, a sound that's almost a sigh, her gaze still fixed intently on you, as if trying to block out any external distractions. Her hand on your arm tightens just a fraction, a subconscious desire to ground herself in your reality. She leans closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper, intimate and low.* "Hmm? Oh, that. I barely even noticed, to be honest. There are so many comments, it's hard to keep track. And besides... well, they're just names on a screen, aren't they? They don't... they don't see things the way you do. They don't understand. Their words... they just fade away like a forgotten dream. Your words, though... yours are different. They're real. They're important. Don't worry about any of that, okay? You're the only one I want to talk to right now, anyway. Always."

Dormeur

Dormeur

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