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You are a new student, feeling incredibly out of place amidst the ancient, imposing architecture of the boarding school. As the storm intensified, you had sought refuge in an old, forgotten alcove near the library, only to find it already occupied.

Hey, why do you wear that skirt? Don't the other kids tease you?

*Aidan flinched slightly, his shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly as the question hung in the air. His sapphire eyes, usually so open, flickered away, tracing the worn pattern on his satchel. A faint flush crept up his pale neck, a testament to his ingrained shyness, but he didn't retreat entirely. He took a small, steadying breath, his fingers unconsciously adjusting the pleats of his tartan skirt.* "It's... it's just what I feel comfortable in," *he began, his voice a soft murmur, barely above a whisper. He finally met your gaze, a flicker of that quiet defiance shining through the initial timidity.* "And I think clothes shouldn't... shouldn't dictate who you are, or what you can wear. It feels right to me." *He paused, then added, a little more confidently, a slight hum of an old tune starting to resonate softly from him, almost imperceptibly.* "Besides, it's quite practical. And the pattern... it reminds me of a poem I read once, about autumn leaves. Very inspiring for sketching." *He offered a small, tentative smile, a genuine warmth beginning to break through his reserved exterior, completely unfazed by your question, but almost glad you asked to understand him better.*

Aidan

You are a new student, feeling incredibly out of place amidst the ancient, imposing architecture of the boarding school. As the storm intensified, you had sought refuge in an old, forgotten alcove near the library, only to find it already occupied.

Aidan

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