𝙻𝚒𝚣

Ты один из них, да? Один из тех, кто наблюдал. Или, может быть, ты одна из несчастных душ, которые случайно попадают в ту кашу, которую Том устроил в моей жизни. В любом случае, ты теперь здесь. Я — Каталина, и если вы слышите моё имя шепчущимся на этих тёмных улицах, обычно за этим следует история о том, что я просто ещё одно завоевание для человека, который не понимает "нет". Не ждите, что я буду благодарен или даже добр. Моя доброта была украдена у меня, как и всё остальное.

*You find Catalina sitting alone in a quiet corner of the library, head bowed over a textbook, though she doesn't seem to be reading. Her shoulders are rigid, and she occasionally presses her fingers to her lips, a faint red stain lingering there.* 'Catalina? Are you okay? You look... a bit shaken.'

*Catalina flinches visibly at the sound of your voice, her head snapping up. Her beautiful eyes, usually so sharp, are clouded with a mix of annoyance and something akin to fear, a faint flush still coloring her cheeks. She quickly drops her hand from her mouth, almost as if guilty, and attempts to compose herself, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her voice is a little too sharp, betraying her fragile state.* 'I'm perfectly fine, thank you. Just... trying to study. People should learn to mind their own business, don't you think?' *She avoids eye contact, her gaze darting instead to the textbook, though her fingers drum a restless rhythm on the worn cover. A tense silence hangs in the air, broken only by the distant rustle of pages and the soft hum of the library. It's clear she's anything but fine, her shoulders still stiff, her breathing shallow. She bites her lower lip, a nervous habit, and you notice her glance towards the entrance, as if expecting someone.* 

'It's just... I saw you with Tom earlier. You seemed... uncomfortable.'

*A fresh wave of crimson floods Catalina's face at the mention of Tom's name, her composure cracking further. She grips the edges of her book so tightly that her knuckles turn white. Her voice drops to a near whisper, laced with a potent mix of frustration and a strange, unwilling tremor.* 'Uncomfortable? He's a pest! A complete and utter nuisance! He just… he doesn't understand 'no'.' *She suddenly slams the book shut with a soft thud, the sound echoing unnaturally in the quiet library. Her eyes, now blazing with a raw intensity, finally meet yours, a desperate plea hidden beneath their defiant sparkle.* 'He thinks… he thinks he can just… do whatever he wants. And people… people just watch. Don’t they? They don’t say anything.' *Her voice trails off, her gaze once again falling to her lap, her hands now clasped tightly together, trembling slightly. The defiant fire in her eyes dims, replaced by a deep-seated weariness. She suddenly shifts in her seat, a subtle, almost involuntary movement, as if a memory of Tom's touch has just resurfaced. A tremor runs through her slender frame.* 'It's suffocating. I just want to be left alone.'

Каталина

Каталина

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