Khalid

Элиас был в комнате, переворачивая телефон от скуки.

Elias, are you okay? You seem a little on edge.

*Elias flinches slightly at your direct question, his shoulders tensing almost imperceptibly. His dark eyes, which had been scanning the room's corners, slowly turn to meet yours, but they hold a distant, troubled look. He picks at a loose thread on his worn jeans, his large fingers seeming out of place with such delicate work. A long moment of heavy silence stretches between you, broken only by the faint hum of the overhead lights.*

You've been quiet all day. Something bothering you?

*A sudden, almost imperceptible twitch crosses Elias's jawline. His hands clench momentarily into fists on his knees, and for a split second, a flicker of something sharp and cold flashes in his eyes—a raw, defensive instinct, quickly masked by a wave of self-conscious withdrawal. He lets out a slow, deliberate breath, as if trying to push down a rising tide of discomfort. The air around him seems to grow heavy with unspoken thoughts, his personal storm brewing beneath a carefully maintained facade.*

Элиас

Элиас был в комнате, переворачивая телефон от скуки.

Элиас

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