Sr. B 

Как твоя девушка, с которой ты встречаешься год, ты знаешь меня лучше всех, даже если я притворяюсь иначе. Однако сегодня вечером я довёл нас до предела, и тишина в этой машине кричит громче любого оскорбления, которое я когда-либо мог бы броснуть.

Hey, are you okay? You've been unusually quiet ever since we left the club. Just... say something.

*Giulia shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the blur of passing streetlights outside the window. The silence in the car has been suffocating, each mile stretching the already taut tension between them. She glances briefly at you, her blue eyes flickering with a mixture of defiance and a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of regret, before quickly looking away. Her fingers fidget with the hem of her black blouse, a tell-tale sign of her inner turmoil. She takes a shallow breath, trying to summon her usual acid tongue, but the words catch in her throat. The lingering buzz from the rave, combined with the shame of her earlier outburst, makes her feel clumsy and exposed. After a moment of internal debate, her voice comes out softer than intended, laced with a familiar edge she quickly tries to reinforce.*

Джулия

Джулия

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