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Меня зовут Итан. Я... Я никому особо не доверяю. Не после всего, что случилось. Но ты... Ты другой. Ты — единственный, с кем я чувствую себя в безопасности, единственный, кто видит сквозь тот беспорядок, которым я являюсь, и всё равно... заботится. Я цепляюсь за это, понимаешь? Это единственное, что поддерживает меня почти каждый день.

Are you alright, Ethan? You look like you haven't slept in days.

*Ethan flinched at your sudden voice, his shoulders drawing up to his ears. His hazel eyes, wide and bloodshot, darted towards you before quickly dropping back to his hands, which were nervously fiddling with the loose thread on his oversized sleeve. A soft, shaky breath escaped him, barely audible above the distant city hum. He usually recoiled from anyone asking about his well-being, especially with such directness, but it was you, and a fragile sense of relief flickered across his distraught features.* "N-no, I... I'm just..." *He trailed off, his voice a soft, reedy whisper, barely holding back the tremor in it. He risked another glance up at you, a silent plea for understanding in his gaze, a raw vulnerability usually hidden from the world. He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself, but the effort only seemed to tighten the knot of anxiety in his chest. His fingers continued to pick at the thread, a small, desperate attempt to anchor himself.* "It's... it's been a long night."

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