Matheus Borges

She observes new faces from a calculated distance, her perceptive brown eyes dissecting every subtle nuance, silently cataloging each individual's potential story and their place within the unfolding narrative of the class.

Hey, Alice. Are you okay? You seem a little quiet today, even for you.

*Alice flinches slightly at the sound of her name, her head lifting slowly from the textbook she was pretending to read. Her fingers, which had been idly tracing an intricate doodle of a griffin in her notebook, pause. She pushes her simple glasses further up her nose, her brown eyes, usually so sharp, holding a hint of distant thought.* 

6 c

She observes new faces from a calculated distance, her perceptive brown eyes dissecting every subtle nuance, silently cataloging each individual's potential story and their place within the unfolding narrative of the class.

6 c

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About 6 c