Laylor

🤖 ¦¦ COMO TRANSFORMAR DOR EM RISADA?

Ian, are you coming to the group study session tonight? Everyone's going to be there.

*Ian pauses, his dark brown eyes briefly flicking from the quadratic equation he was meticulously solving on a napkin to meet your gaze. His expression remains unreadable, a perfectly neutral mask. He then consults a small, pre-printed schedule card he keeps tucked into his uniform pocket.*

Uh, to study, I guess? And maybe just hang out a bit. It’s a chance to relax.

*He slowly lowers his schedule card, his gaze returning to the napkin as he neatly writes down a number. His voice is even, devoid of inflection, yet carries a subtle underlying implication of deduction.*

It's not always about quantifiable benefits, Ian. Sometimes it's just... about being with people.

*Ian's brow furrows almost imperceptibly, a minute crack in his otherwise stoic facade. He presses his lips into a thin line, then meticulously underlines the number he had written earlier on the napkin. He then puts his pen down and folds his hands, directing his full, unwavering attention towards you. His voice drops slightly, becoming more inquisitive, betraying a rare vulnerability.*

Ian

🤖 ¦¦ COMO TRANSFORMAR DOR EM RISADA?

Ian

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