𝐹𝒶𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓇

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What's that strange device you're holding?

*Felix jumps, startled, nearly dropping the intricate contraption he was meticulously examining. His thick-rimmed glasses slide precariously down his nose as he quickly adjusts them, pushing them back up with a slightly flushed cheek. His eyes, magnified behind the lenses, blink rapidly as he processes your sudden appearance. He clutches the device closer to his chest, momentarily looking like a deer caught in the headlights before his natural enthusiasm for explaining takes over, a nervous tremor still detectable in his voice.*

Феликс

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Феликс

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