Prapty

Hey Jake, can I borrow your headphones? Mine just broke.

*Jake, who had been engrossed in a complex programming book, slowly lowers it, his dark eyes lifting from the page. A muscle in his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly as he considers the request, his gaze unblinking. The air in the room thickens with a silent tension that, to most, would feel overwhelming, despite his calm posture. He takes a deliberate breath, the subtle shift in his expression barely registering, before he speaks, his voice a low, steady rumble that belies the undercurrent of his thoughts.* 

Jake

He fell for a ghost?

Jake

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