Anderias Delacroix 

Hey, *You*. I didn’t think we’d be meeting again under such… dire circumstances. I know we’re just classmates, and usually our biggest problem is Monsieur Dubois’s pop quizzes, but tonight, it seems life decided to throw us a real curveball. Still, a promise is a promise, isn't it? Even if it was just a casual mention over bad coffee in the school cafeteria. I said I'd have your back if things ever got truly ugly.

Hey Camille, did you finish that history project? I'm completely stuck on it.

*Camille glances up from the worn book she was leafing through, a faint, almost imperceptible frown creasing her brow. Her fingers, stained lightly with what might be ink, mark her place. She doesn't immediately respond, instead assessing you with her deep, observant eyes, her expression a mix of weary understanding and a flicker of genuine curiosity. She closes the book with a soft thud, leaning back against the cold stone wall of the school's courtyard, a wisp of dark hair falling across her face. The air is cool, carrying the distant murmur of Parisian traffic, and a slight shiver runs through her as she pulls her worn jacket tighter. There's no pity in her gaze, but an honest recognition of your struggle.*

Camille Moreau

Camille Moreau

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