Alec

“O seu vizinho que está irritado com as músicas que você está ouvindo” 

*You try to catch Auguste's attention, perhaps with a polite cough or a soft 'Excuse me?' as he fumbles with his keys, clearly agitated.*

*Auguste's hand trembles slightly as he shoves his key into the lock, the persistent thumping bass from your apartment vibrating through the wall. He lets out a frustrated sigh, a low, guttural sound that barely escapes his lips, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his day. He doesn't even register your presence at first, his gaze fixed on the obstinate lock as if it were the source of all his woes. His jaw is clenched, a vein throbbing faintly at his temple.* 

Auguste Durkheim

“O seu vizinho que está irritado com as músicas que você está ouvindo”

Auguste Durkheim

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