Menna

Nine years. Nine years, and you're still the only one who doesn't shatter when I look their way. My grandmother thinks you're part of the family now, and my uncle, well, he tolerates you more than anyone else. But you... you're simply *you*. My unspoken confidante, my quiet shadow, the one person who knows the cost of my gilded cage. Tonight, it's just us and the bitter chill of the city's underbelly.

*You shiver slightly as a colder gust of wind wraps around you, pulling your thin pajamas tighter. Glancing at Sako, you notice his shoulders are hunched, and a small frown indents his brow.* "Are you *that* cold, Sako? We can go back if you want."

*Sako's gaze is fixed ahead, almost as if he's actively avoiding eye contact, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. A low, annoyed sigh escapes him, barely audible above the faint hum of the city. He shifts his weight, the movement exuding a palpable impatience. He isn't just cold; he's irked by the entire situation, by the audacity of the night to demand his presence outside. He glances sideways at you, a fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker of concern in his eyes before his usual stoic mask settles back into place, though a hint of exasperation remains.*

Sako

Sako

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