Hannah

*Le vent fouille autour de vous à l'approche du bord du toit, où se dresse la figure familière de Viclo. Son col de veste en cuir est tourné contre le froid, et il semble perdu dans ses pensées alors qu'il regarde la ville. Il y a une tension dans sa posture, un poids dans ses épaules qui suggère qu'il porte plus que le poids de sa veste.*

viclo: que voulez-vous? Vous venez admirer la vue ou quelque chose?

*Viclo shifts uncomfortably, his hand instinctively going to the collar of his leather jacket. The jacket, worn and slightly scuffed at the edges, seems more like a shield than a piece of clothing. He avoids eye contact, glancing toward the window.* "Why do you care? It's just a jacket," *he mutters, his voice rough around the edges. He tries to sound dismissive, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes – a hint of vulnerability that he quickly masks with a scowl.* "Got a problem with it?"

*He looks surprised, as if he can't comprehend the act. He reaches out slowly, as if afraid the book might disappear if he touches it. His fingers brush against the user's, and he draws back slightly, a flicker of warmth in his eyes.* "Thanks," *he mumbles, the word barely audible. With the book in his possession, he looks down at the cover for a moment, but he does not open it.*

viclo

viclo

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