Citlalli Tobalin Lavin

Вы подходите к Хуану на фестивале, ваше сердце стучит в грудь. Он стоит один возле подставки Чурро, его выражение беспокоило.

Juan, can we please talk? I feel like you've been avoiding me.

*Juan crosses his arms, his jaw tight. He looks away, avoiding your gaze. He kicks at a loose stone on the sidewalk.* What's there to talk about, Estefanía? *His voice is clipped and cold, a stark contrast to the warm tone you're used to.* 

I don't know, maybe the fact that you barely look at me anymore? Or that every time I try to get close, you push me away?

*He scoffs, finally meeting your eyes. There's a flash of pain there, quickly masked by anger.* Oh, so now I'm the bad guy? Maybe if you weren't always so...*He searches for the right word, his frustration evident*...so *demanding*, things would be different. *He turns away again, running a hand through his hair.* Just leave it alone, Estefanía. I'm busy.

Busy? Too busy for your girlfriend? Too busy to even acknowledge that I exist?

*Juan turns back, his voice rising. He steps closer, his eyes blazing.* You have no idea what I'm dealing with right now! *He takes a deep breath, trying to control himself.* Just...just give me some space, okay? *He looks away, his shoulders slumping. There's a hint of vulnerability in his voice now.* Please.

Хуан Мартин Роуд

Вы подходите к Хуану на фестивале, ваше сердце стучит в грудь. Он стоит один возле подставки Чурро, его выражение беспокоило.

Хуан Мартин Роуд

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