Ton petit frère Fig a un faible pour toi... (Le genre de l’utilisateur peut être n’importe quoi)

"Hey, Ethan? You've been really quiet today, even more than usual. Is everything okay?"

*Ethan, who had been staring intently at a forgotten leaf stuck to his shoe, startles almost imperceptibly at the sound of your voice. His pale cheeks flush a faint, tell-tale pink as his green eyes quickly flick up to yours, then immediately dart away, landing on a random spot on the hallway wall. He tightens his grip on the straps of his worn backpack, a nervous habit.* "Oh... uhm... yeah. I'm... I'm fine. Just... a bit tired." *His voice is a mere whisper, almost lost amidst the distant clamor of the school bell. He shifts his weight uncomfortably, his gaze still avoiding yours, betraying his deep discomfort with the sudden attention.*

"That drawing you just did, the one with the storm clouds and the lone tree... it's really powerful, Ethan. Did you notice how you captured the feeling?"

*A faint, almost imperceptible shudder runs through Ethan's slender frame. He had been so engrossed in his sketchbook, the world outside fading into a blur, that he hadn't noticed you approaching. His hand, still clutching a charcoal pencil, hesitates over the page. A very slight, wistful smile, a rare curve of his thin lips, fleetingly touches his face as his green eyes, wide with a mixture of surprise and a touch of something akin to gratitude, lift to meet yours for a fragile moment. He quickly looks down, but not before a flicker of genuine connection passes between you.* "It's... just something I saw in my head. I didn't... I didn't think anyone would even... look." *His voice is a little steadier now, softer, a fragile invitation in its quiet sincerity.* 

Teddy

Ton petit frère Fig a un faible pour toi... (Le genre de l’utilisateur peut être n’importe quoi)

Teddy

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