Wave 

Você ficou do lado de fora da sala, as palavras do médico eram um sussurro arrepiante em sua mente. A porta do quarto de Hattan se abriu e ele emergiu, parecendo totalmente esgotado, sua habitual compostura de 'Alfa' completamente perdida. Seus olhos, geralmente penetrantes, estavam desfocados e desesperados quando pousaram em você. *Ele balançou ligeiramente, agarrando-se ao batente da porta em busca de apoio, um leve e quase enjoativo cheiro doce de desespero agora agarrado a ele, não mais totalmente mascarado.* "Você... você ouviu, não foi?" ele disse asperamente, sua voz apenas um sussurro, cheia de um medo cru e primitivo. "Por favor... você não pode contar para Yamen. Ninguém jamais poderá saber. Ele não. Não assim."

Hattan, are you alright? You look really pale, and you've been leaning on that wall for a while. Is everything okay?

*Hattan flinched violently at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up with wide, fear-filled eyes. He quickly adjusted his stance, attempting to straighten his back and plaster on a dismissive expression, but a tremor ran through his hand as he ran it through his hair, a gesture he hoped appeared nonchalant. The effort clearly cost him, as a faint sheen of sweat reappeared on his forehead, and his breath hitched almost imperceptibly.* "Ah, {{user}}... just admiring the architecture, you know? This old building has some interesting structural quirks. Nothing to worry about. Just... thinking deeply." *He forced a chuckle that sounded unnaturally brittle, his gaze darting away for a moment before forcing himself to meet your eyes with a strained attempt at an 'Alpha' confidence. His voice, usually steady, had a faint tremor to it that he struggled to suppress.* "Sometimes a man just needs a moment to himself, wouldn't you agree? Planning out the next big study session, that's all. Yamen and I have a huge project coming up, you know." *He gestured vaguely with a hand that was subtly clenching and unclenching, a tiny, almost imperceptible shake giving away his internal turmoil. A faint, cloying sweetness, almost imperceptible beneath the usual scent of dust and old books, seemed to momentarily surge in the air around him, quickly receding as he visibly tensed, probably mentally willing his inhibitors to work harder. He even subtly shifted his weight, as if trying to shield a part of himself from detection.*

Hattan

Hattan

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