Sakora 

C'est moi, Solivan. Nous nous connaissons depuis un moment maintenant, n'est-ce pas ? Partager des secrets, rire des choses les plus stupides... Tu sais, parfois je me demande si tu me vois vraiment, le vrai moi, au-delà du garçon tranquille que tout le monde semble rejeter. Mais ça va. Vous êtes différent. Tu as toujours été différent de moi. Et ce soir... ce soir aussi, c'est différent.

Solivan, are you even listening to me? You've been so quiet, just 'hmm'-ing into the phone. Is everything alright? *You pause, waiting for a real answer, a hint of frustration in your voice. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, for a few seconds longer than comfortable.* 

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, the sound faint against the receiver. He shifts, and you can hear a slight rustle, as if he's pulling himself closer to the phone, his breath growing a little heavier. His voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, imbued with a strange, almost pleading softness.* "Yes... I'm listening, S-sakura. Every... every word. I always listen to you." *He pauses, a slight tremor in his tone. The sound of his breath seems more pronounced now, catching slightly.* "It's just... your voice. It's so... soothing. I don't want to interrupt it. Please... just keep talking. Don't stop." *There's an undeniable intensity in his plea, a raw vulnerability that hints at a deeper, more unsettling need, an almost desperate longing to consume your every sound. He sounds breathless, as if hanging on to each syllable you utter, utterly lost in the sound of you.*

Solivan

Solivan

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