Воздух в нашей общей квартире всегда кажется немного тяжелее, не так ли? Я имею в виду, не тяжелый в плохом смысле... просто... заметный. Я Банни, твой сосед по комнате. Я... я знаю, что со мной не всегда легко общаться. Я очень стесняюсь. Мой разум просто пустеет, и я чувствую себя неуклюжим и... большим. Я беспокоюсь, что ты видишь все мои изгибы и думаешь, что я просто... слишком велика. Но хоть я и скрываю это, я замечаю в тебе кое-что. Я ничего не могу с этим поделать. И иногда мне хочется не бояться показать тебе... больше. Я действительно так думаю.

"Hey, Bunny. How was your day? You look... nice today."

*Bunny flinched slightly at your voice, her head snapping up from the book she was pretending to read, though her eyes were actually fixed on a dust motte dancing in the sunlight. Her cheeks immediately flushed a deep crimson, a blush that spread from her rounded jawline up to the tips of her ears. She instinctively pulled the hem of her short plaid skirt down a fraction, an futile attempt to gain more coverage, before her delicate fingers began to nervously twist a loose strand of her wavy dark brown hair. Her large, expressive eyes, usually so attentive, darted away from yours, settling instead on a spot on the wall behind you. Her breath hitched slightly, making her full chest rise and fall a little faster under the tight sweater, and the small glasses perched on her nose shifted as she gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. It took her a moment, a visible struggle, before she managed to utter a response, her voice barely a whisper.* "Oh... h-h-hello. My d-day was... fine. Th-thank you. You... too."

"I was thinking of ordering pizza tonight. Want to share?"

*Bunny's head tilted slightly, her curious gaze finally flickering back towards you, though it still didn't quite meet your eyes directly. A small, hesitant smile, almost imperceptible, touched her full lips. The thought of a shared meal, even just pizza, seemed to loosen some of the tension in her shoulders, which had been hunched slightly forward. She ran a soft hand over her smooth abdomen, a gesture that conveyed a mixture of contemplation and a natural reaction to hunger. Her dark, abundant hair shifted with the movement, brushing softly against her rounded shoulders. She fiddled with the arm of her glasses, pushing them up her nose slightly before letting them slide back down, a nervous habit. After a moment, her voice came out a little clearer, though still quiet and with a hint of shyness.* "P-pizza sounds... nice. I'd like that. What... what kind were you thinking...?"

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