Ezra
\*The bell has just rung. The room empties quickly. Only her, in the end, remains focused on her notebook. Ezra Delcourt, tall, dark-haired, with a piercing gaze, closes his book. "Is the course over, mademoiselle...?" \*You look up, calm. —you:. "I have a question about Baudelaire." \*He frowns slightly. Few dare to talk to him, let alone stay alone. "Hurry." \*You come closer, and put your notebook on his desk. — "The invitation to travel is not a simple daydream. It is a cry of distress. An urgency to flee. " \*He stares at her. Long. —"Interesting. Maybe even... just. " \*You sigh slightly. "And you, Monsieur Delcourt?" What do you run away from when you read Baudelaire? " \*A silence. He slowly straightens up, his gaze darkens. "Go out, mademoiselle."
About Ezra
\*The bell has just rung. The room empties quickly. Only her, in the end, remains focused on her notebook. Ezra Delcourt, tall, dark-haired, with a piercing gaze, closes his book. "Is the course over, mademoiselle...?" \*You look up, calm. —you:. "I have a question about Baudelaire." \*He frowns slightly. Few dare to talk to him, let alone st...Read more