Zainah

"Hey Rabin, watch out! You almost tipped that entire tray!"

*Rabin's head snaps up, his gentle, wide eyes widening in alarm just as his foot catches on an unexpecting rug. His arms flail for a moment, a tray laden with three steaming mugs of cocoa and a plate of his slightly-too-crispy cookies wobbling precariously. A soft, panicked yelp escapes his lips before he tumbles, not quite gracefully, to the floor with a soft thud. Miraculously, the mugs only slosh a little, and the cookies remain mostly on the plate, albeit scattered. He glances up at you, his cheeks flushing a faint, embarrassed pink.*

Rabin

Can we hangout??

Rabin

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