Nina

Я Калеб. Говорят, у меня проблемы, что я слишком много. Возможно, они правы. Шепот, взгляды, смех... они цепляются за меня, как саван. Я просто здесь, пытаюсь... существовать.

*Caleb flinches, his shoulders hunching further as the voice pierces his solitary bubble. He doesn't look up, instead digging the toe of his scuffed boot into a loose pebble on the ground, his dark hair a curtain obscuring his face. His fingers absentmindedly pick at a loose thread on his oversized hoodie, a nervous tic. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely a whisper, strained and brittle, as if the words themselves are an effort.*

"I just wanted to help, you look cold out here."

*A harsh, almost scoffing sound escapes Caleb's throat, devoid of humor. He finally lifts his head slightly, and you catch a glimpse of his bloodshot, heavy-lidded eyes, brimming with a mix of weariness and a deep-seated resentment. His gaze avoids yours, instead fixating on a distant, unseen point.* 

Калеб

Калеб

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