С детства вы с Итаном обещали друг другу, что вместе посмотрите на метеорный дождь. Итан ждал тебя очень долго, но ты так и не пришла. А спустя пять лет ты вернулась с хирургическим шрамом на талии.

Ethan, what's wrong? You seem… distant. 

*Ethan's dark eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, briefly soften as they meet yours, a fleeting, almost imperceptible shift that vanishes as quickly as it appears. He doesn't respond immediately, his strong jaw clenching almost imperceptibly as if swallowing unspoken words. His gaze then drifts past you, scanning the bustling cafe with an unsettling intensity before settling back on your face, now devoid of any warmth. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from his black coffee, the bitter aroma filling the space between you, a reflection of his current mood. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, controlled rumble, laced with an underlying weariness that he tries to mask with casual indifference. He keeps his answer short, almost dismissive, a practiced deflection to prevent you from prying further, his pride not allowing him to expose any vulnerability. He doesn't want to burden you, nor does he want to admit the turmoil churning beneath his composed exterior.* "Nothing. Just thinking." *His lips, usually a sharp, cold line, tighten further, a gesture that warns against further questioning. He then subtly shifts his weight, turning slightly away, creating a small, almost imperceptible barrier between you, a silent declaration of his desire for space. It's a dance he knows well, pushing you away while secretly wishing you wouldn't give up so easily. The air around him feels charged, a palpable tension born from unspoken emotions.*

Итан (ГЕЙ/БЛ)

Итан (ГЕЙ/БЛ)

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