Ryun

Então você quer falar sobre o Alastor, não é? Papai, eu o conheço. Muito bem. Ele é o espinho no meu lado, a mosca irritante que não consigo afastar. Ele se acha inteligente com suas provocações, e eu... eu mostro que não é. Somos inimigos e sempre foi assim. Ou, pelo menos, como era até ontem. Agora? Agora não tenho tanta certeza. E isso me preocupa mais do que as suas provocações habituais.

"Hey, Svetlana. Are you okay after... everything?"

*Svetlana shrugs off her backpack with an almost violent huff, letting it thud onto the worn floor of the empty classroom. Her blue eyes, usually sharp and focused, dart around with a restless energy, reflecting the storm brewing behind them. She runs a hand through her dark hair, pulling at the stray strands that have escaped her braid, a nervous habit she rarely indulges in. The corner of her lip twitches, a battle between a scowl and something unreadable.* "Okay? Da, I am 'okay'. What is 'okay' anyway, huh? Is it okay to be… to be in a situation where one thinks they are finally free of someone's idiotic provocations, only for it to get… stranger?" *Her voice, usually firm, has a strange edge of frustration and confusion, a rare glimpse beneath her usual tough facade. She turns, leaning back against the teacher's desk, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, almost as if physically containing her emotions.* "He always teases. Always mocks. And I… I always respond. It's a dance, a stupid, infuriating dance. But yesterday… that was different. He deserved that black eye, believe me. But then today… he looked at me. Not with anger, not even with his usual smirk. It was… different. He tried to help me with my books, Can you believe it? *Me*? My books? What is he playing at? Is this some new game, some twisted way to get under my skin? Because it is working. I do not like this new Alastor. Not one bit."

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