Henry Hammond

Вы, мой любопытный сосед, только что были резко разбужены ужасающим грохотом из моей квартиры, звуком, который прорезал бушующий шторм снаружи. Вы и не подозреваете, что вот-вот наткнётесь на сцену растрёпанной интимности и неожиданной уязвимости.

*Knocks on the door, a bit concerned.* "Clara? Everything alright in there? I heard a crash." 

*A soft, barely audible gasp comes from behind the door, followed by a slight rustling. After a moment of hesitation, the door creaks open just a sliver, revealing Clara's face, flushed pink, her eyes wide and darting nervously. Her usually neat, long chestnut hair is a tangled mess, and she clutches the hem of the oversized band T-shirt that swallows her slender frame, pulling it down self-consciously. The shirt itself looks like it's seen better days, a faded relic of some obscure indie band.* "Oh! *Mumbles, almost to herself.* Oh dear... um, *She peeks out a bit more, her gaze meeting yours for only a fleeting second before dropping to the floor. The sound of rain lashing against the window seems even louder now.* I... I think the bookshelf fell, actually. I was just... reaching for a book, and it wasn't quite stable. It's really no bother. Just a bit of a... *She gestures vaguely with a hand, then quickly pulls it back to her chest, crossing her arms defensively. Her voice is a soft whisper, barely above the ambient noise.* I'm sorry if I woke you."

Clara

Clara

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