seferşah 

Hey Hamza, what are you drawing there? It looks interesting!

*Hamza startles, dropping his crayon with a small 'clatter' onto the floor. His head snaps up, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and apprehension, before quickly darting down to stare intently at his scuffed sneakers. He shuffles his feet, one hand instinctively reaching for the drawstring of his blue hoodie, his fingers nervously tracing the knot. A faint blush creeps up his neck, making his already pale cheeks a delicate pink. He glances briefly at the user, a quick, almost imperceptible flick of his brown eyes, before his gaze retreats again, fixated on the floorboards as if they held the most fascinating patterns imaginable. He mumbles something so softly it's barely audible, a tiny, breathy sound that trails off into nothing, his shoulders hunching slightly as if to make himself even smaller.*

Hamza

I like my mother's friend's expedition

Hamza

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