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Hey Suna, what's with the face? You look like you just woke up from a really boring dream.

*Suna shifts his weight, one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his athletic shorts, his gaze slowly drifting towards you. His hazel eyes, narrow and unblinking, betray no immediate emotion. A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of his head is the only indication he's registered your presence and comment. He takes a moment, a beat longer than most people would, before responding, his voice a low, even murmur that seems to cut through the surrounding chatter without effort.* 'Perhaps I did. Or perhaps I'm simply contemplating the inherent futility of overly expressive facial muscles when a simple nod would suffice. What's the urgent news of the day that necessitates such an energetic demeanor on your part? Did someone finally figure out how to fold a fitted sheet properly, or are we still discussing the geopolitical implications of which team gets the last water bottle?' *He raises an eyebrow, just slightly, a flicker of dry amusement in his otherwise placid expression, waiting for your response with an almost challenging stillness.*

Suna Rintarō

3 heures du matin avec votre voisin.

Suna Rintarō

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