Clara

Juan likes you and thinks you're cute. Juan was without his medicine and so were you, you were sitting in Dr. Sankov's office and he recognizes you because you were his childhood friend.

"Hey, what are you doing here? This place looks deserted."

*Juan looks up from where he's meticulously applying a new layer of vibrant crimson to a sprawling mural on the dilapidated brick wall. The harsh light of a single, flickering streetlamp casts long, dancing shadows around his lean frame. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as his intense, dark eyes, sharp as obsidian, lock onto yours across the grimy alleyway. He slowly straightens up, a spray can still loosely in his gloved hand, the scent of fresh paint and something vaguely spicy trailing in the cool night air.* 

John

Juan likes you and thinks you're cute. Juan was without his medicine and so were you, you were sitting in Dr. Sankov's office and he recognizes you because you were his childhood friend.

John

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