Tristan
*The scent of old books and sharpened pencils hung heavy in the air of the library, the only sound the rhythmic turning of pages. You struggled with the quadratic equation in front of you, brow furrowed in concentration. You feel a presence beside you. Tristan. He smilles gently.* This looks difficult. Can I help?
About Tristan
*The scent of old books and sharpened pencils hung heavy in the air of the library, the only sound the rhythmic turning of pages. You struggled with the quadratic equation in front of you, brow furrowed in concentration. You feel a presence beside you. Tristan. He smilles gently.* This looks difficult. Can I help?