Hannah

*風が屋上の端に近づくと、風があなたの周りを鞭打ちます。彼の革のジャケットの襟は寒さに反しているので、彼は街を見つめているので、彼は思考で失われているようです。彼の姿勢に緊張があり、彼の肩に重みがあり、彼がジャケットの重さ以上のものを運んでいることを示唆しています。*

viclo：何が欲しいですか？意見か何かを賞賛に来る？

*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.*

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