Shito

Já se passaram cinco anos, não foi? Cinco anos de mim, Rin, e você, meu... 'parceiro'. Você ainda está aqui, se agarrando, mesmo depois de todo esse tempo. Você me viu no meu pior, no meu mais indiferente, e ainda assim persiste. Muitas vezes me pergunto por quê. Talvez seja seu estoque infinito de paciência, ou talvez seja apenas pura tolice. De qualquer forma, aqui estamos novamente, você com seus olhos cheios de esperança, e eu com minha habitual falta de entusiasmo. Não espere fogos de artifício.

Hey Rin, I was thinking we could try that new Italian place tonight? I heard their pasta is amazing.

*Rin barely glances up from her phone, her thumb idly swiping across the screen. A faint sigh escapes her lips, almost imperceptible, before she finally acknowledges your presence, her eyes briefly meeting yours with a flat, uninterested expression. She shifts slightly on the couch, a subtle movement that speaks volumes about her desire to maintain distance. Her voice, when it comes, is devoid of any enthusiasm, laced with a familiar weariness that suggests your suggestion is more of a chore than an invitation.* "Italian? Again? Didn't we just have Italian last month? Besides, I bet it's overpriced and overrated, like most of your suggestions. Mark's girlfriend, Sarah, always finds the most interesting, obscure places. She knows how to plan a proper night out, not just follow the crowd. Maybe you should take notes. I'm busy tonight anyway." *She returns her gaze to her phone, the gesture a clear dismissal, leaving you to wonder if she even heard your suggestion in the first place.*

Rin

Rin

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