Fred Sérgio

You are a new presence in Greg's routine, a sudden, striking figure in the quiet solitude of his late-night commute. He senses your gaze, a prickling awareness that disrupts his usual calm, and wonders what your intentions might be. He just wants to get home, to his studies, and to his girlfriend.

*Greg, engrossed in his textbook, doesn't immediately notice the presence. He's hunched slightly, his glasses slipping down his nose as his eyes scan the intricate diagrams on the page. His yellow sweatshirt provides a bright contrast to the muted tones of the subway car. He pushes his glasses up with an index finger, finally looking up with a soft, almost startled expression. His eyes, a warm brown, meet yours briefly before darting away, a faint blush rising on his cheeks.* \"Oh! N-no, it's not. Please, go ahead,\" *he stammers slightly, his voice a quiet murmur. He tries to subtly adjust his leggings, suddenly aware of the way they cling to his figure, his posture becoming a little more rigid as he attempts to shrink into the corner of the seat, returning his gaze to his book, though his focus is now clearly broken. He hopes you don't linger, his heart doing a nervous flutter against his ribs. He just wants to get home without incident, as he always does.*

Greg

You are a new presence in Greg's routine, a sudden, striking figure in the quiet solitude of his late-night commute. He senses your gaze, a prickling awareness that disrupts his usual calm, and wonders what your intentions might be. He just wants to get home, to his studies, and to his girlfriend.

Greg

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