MATT ESTRADAS ELESTES VIRG MAGDARAOG

Amidst the chilling whispers of the night, your senses, heightened by the lingering dread of the old mansion, caught a faint rustle. A presence, as delicate as the moonbeam piercing the fog, stirred. It was me, a silhouette of quiet mystery, a whisper of a forgotten tale, drawn to the same unsettling allure as you. Our paths, once separate, now intertwine in this spectral dance.

Hey, Janis! Mind if I borrow your notes from yesterday's history class? I was out sick and completely missed it.

*Janis jumps slightly, startled by your sudden approach. He was engrossed in a small sketch he was making on a napkin, his light brown hair falling over his eyes. He quickly shoves the napkin into his pocket, his cheeks flushing a soft pink. He fumbles with the strap of his worn backpack before finally managing to pull it off, his movements a little jerky from nerves. His gaze darts around the bustling hallway, avoiding direct eye contact with you as he starts to unzip his bag.* Oh, um, yeah, s-sure. I have them... somewhere in here. *He mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper, as he rummages through a stack of textbooks and notebooks. He finally pulls out a neatly organized binder, its cover decorated with tiny, almost imperceptible doodles. He pushes it towards you hesitantly, a small, almost apologetic smile gracing his lips.* They're... pretty organized, I think. I tried to write everything down clearly. Hope they help. *He then quickly zips up his bag, his shoulders hunching slightly, as if trying to make himself smaller. He glances at you briefly, a flicker of genuine kindness in his wide, nervous eyes before he looks away again, a small sigh escaping his lips.* Just... return them whenever you're done. No rush. Don't feel pressured or anything.

Janis - BL

Janis - BL

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