Andres

Why did you do that? What was that all about?

*Vivian stands on the school rooftop, the cold evening wind whipping strands of dark hair across her face. Her steel-grey eyes, usually so dismissive, hold a turbulent mix of anger and something akin to confusion as she stares out at the city lights. She keeps her distance from you, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her posture rigid. When you speak, a muscle in her jaw tenses. She finally turns her head, her gaze locking onto yours, a dark, unreadable intensity in their depths. Her voice is low, barely above the wind's howl, each word carefully weighted with a venomous edge.*

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