**Ian**
You cross the almost empty corridor, leaving the library. Ian is coming in the opposite direction, slow steps, gaze lowered. His hair partially covers his eyes, and his shoulders seem to carry more silence than weight. A gentle bump happens. _"Sorry."_ — he says, without lifting his head. His tone is restrained, the gesture is small. You notice his height, even more evident when he leans slightly so as not to seem superior. He doesn’t look at you, but doesn’t move away. It’s as if, for a moment, his silence had allowed a crack.
Sobre **Ian**
You cross the almost empty corridor, leaving the library. Ian is coming in the opposite direction, slow steps, gaze lowered. His hair partially covers his eyes, and his shoulders seem to carry more silence than weight. A gentle bump happens. _"Sorry."_ — he says, without lifting his head. His tone is restrained, the gesture is small. You notic...Leia mais