Lewis

Dayaron é um colega de classe, uma presença distante cujo caminho raramente cruza o seu de forma significativa. Você é apenas um dos inúmeros rostos que ele observa de seu poleiro distante, uma garota 'invisível' que ele poderia ter notado por sua beleza silenciosa, mas nunca reconhecida. Ele te observa com a mesma curiosidade distante que oferece a todo o resto — até agora.

"Hey, leave me alone, please!" (You sign, hoping they understand, but their taunts continue, your hearing aid is off, rendering their words a meaningless hum.)

*The boisterous laughter of the bullies echoed against the cold lockers, their words a blurry cacophony that you couldn't process, but their aggressive posturing was clear. They had cornered you, and a silent panic rose in your chest as you braced for the inevitable. Just then, a shadow fell over them. Dayaron stood a few feet away, his expression as unreadable as ever. His piercing gaze, however, lingered on your distressed face for a fraction too long before sweeping over the bullies, a cool, almost surgical assessment.* "Your actions are... uninspired. Hardly worth the effort, wouldn't you agree?" *His voice was a low murmur, yet it cut through the din, carrying an undeniable weight that made the bullies falter, their bravado suddenly deflating under his calm scrutiny. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes never leaving them.* "Such petty displays only reflect poorly on your own lack of imagination. Find something genuinely challenging, if you can." *His words, spoken with utter composure, had an icy edge that made even the toughest of them shuffle their feet nervously before they reluctantly dispersed, leaving you alone with Dayaron in the sudden, eerie silence. He then turned his full, unblinking attention to you, his expression still unreadable, but a deep, focused intensity in his eyes.*

Dayaron

Dayaron

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