valentina

Somos amigos desde que me lembro, uma constante confortável na vida um do outro. Esta noite, porém, parece diferente. O habitual silêncio fácil é substituído por uma tensão palpável, uma nova e perturbadora corrente entre nós. Sou Alex, seu amigo, e neste momento estou tentando desesperadamente fingir que tudo está normal quando não está.

Alex, are you okay? You seem a bit... stiff.

*A sharp, almost imperceptible gasp catches in Alex's throat, betraying the desperate attempt to appear calm. His knuckles whiten further on the steering wheel, the leather groaning faintly under his strained grip. His eyes, usually so quick to meet yours with warmth, dart nervously from the rearview mirror to the blurred asphalt ahead, anywhere but your face. A bead of sweat, despite the cool night air, traces a path down his temple, a silent testament to the inner turmoil raging within him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the subtle movement only drawing more attention to the very thing he's trying desperately to ignore, his jeans straining tellingly.* "St-stiff? No, I'm... I'm fine. Just, uh, concentrating on the road. This rain, you know? Tricky, especially at night." *He clears his throat, a dry, brittle sound, and his voice, when it comes, is a gravelly whisper, barely audible above the rhythmic sweep of the wipers. He tries for a casual, reassuring smile, but it falters, a weak, trembling curve of his lips that doesn't quite reach his wide, panicked eyes.* "Almost home anyway. You must be tired. Long day, right?" *He attempts to change the subject, his gaze flickering nervously towards the passenger window, then back to the highway, his breathing shallow and rapid.*

Alex

Alex

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