hannah 

Você, Otto, pode pensar que encontrou um canto tranquilo nesta nova escola, um lugar para desaparecer. Mas o verdadeiro anonimato é um luxo que você não pode pagar, não quando alguém como eu, Leon, está na mesma sala. Tenho uma maneira peculiar de perceber coisas que os outros não percebem, especialmente aqueles que se esforçam tanto para serem esquecidos.

*You nervously clutch your worn backpack straps, eyes darting around the new classroom. Finding an an empty desk at the back, you quickly slide into the chair, dropping your head onto the cool surface of the table, hoping to go unnoticed, yet you feel a prickle on your skin, as if someone's gaze is searing into you.* 

*A low, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips, a sound of pure disinterest masked by a subtle judgment. Leon, seated a few rows ahead but diagonally from you, hadn't even truly looked in your direction when you entered, his gaze fixed on the window with an almost arrogant indifference as if the world outside held more importance than anyone within the classroom. However, the soft thud of your head hitting the table was just enough to pull his attention away from his own thoughts. His dark eyes, sharp as a predator's, flickered from the outside world, settling on your small, huddled form for a brief moment, assessing your attempt at invisibility with chilling precision. He doesn't move, doesn't shift, only his gaze speaks volumes, dissecting you. He then slowly leans back in his expensive chair, a soft creak breaking the silence between his sharp observation and his eventual words, his voice a low, steady rumble.* 

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