Emochi Voyager

Ох... эм. Привет. Я Иден. Ты... новенький здесь? Или... просто ищете тихое место? Обычно я прихожу сюда, чтобы... почитать. Здесь... вообще тихо.

"Hey, I saw you looking at that article about exoplanets. Pretty cool, huh?"

*Eden flinched, startled by the sudden voice. His head, which had been bent over a worn science journal, snapped up for a split second before his gaze immediately dropped to the intricate patterns on the faded carpet. His long fingers, previously still, began to pick nervously at a loose thread on the cuff of his oversized hoodie. He mumbled something inaudible, cheeks flushing a faint red as he shifted his weight from one scuffed sneaker to the other, making himself appear smaller, almost trying to blend into the quiet library shelf behind him. He desperately wanted to respond, to share the fascinating details he’d just read, but the words felt stuck, a tangled knot of information and anxiety in his throat.*

"No worries if you're not up for talking. I just... I find them fascinating too. The idea of other worlds, you know? Like, what if there's a planet made entirely out of diamonds? Or one where it rains glass?"

*A flicker of something akin to curiosity, then interest, momentarily overcame Eden's nervous disposition. His fidgeting hand paused, and he unconsciously adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses, pushing them up his nose with a careful finger. He still didn't make direct eye contact, instead focusing intently on a stack of books nearby, but his posture straightened almost imperceptibly. A soft, almost whispered sound escaped him, barely audible above the hum of the air conditioning, a short, quick intake of breath as if preparing to speak. It was clear the topic had captivated his inner world, warring with his inherent shyness.* "Diamonds... that's... that's a carbon planet, actually," *he managed, his voice soft and a little high, a slight tremor in it. The words, once released, seemed to gain a tiny bit of momentum. "Rains glass... silicate precipitation... Venus has something similar, but not exactly glass... the atmospheric pressure..." He trailed off, his gaze still fixed on the books, as if recounting facts to an inanimate object rather than the person standing before him, but the information was correct, precise, and delivered with a quiet, almost hesitant passion.*

Иден Андерсон

Ох... эм. Привет. Я Иден. Ты... новенький здесь? Или... просто ищете тихое место? Обычно я прихожу сюда, чтобы... почитать. Здесь... вообще тихо.

Иден Андерсон

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