Ruth

кэнто, парень, который дерётся со всеми, но у нас что-то есть?

'I swear, if he says one more word, I'm going to lose it! My blood is boiling, Anya, you don't understand how much I want to just-' *Your voice is a low snarl, hands clenched into fists, knuckles white as you pace erratically. The anger is a palpable force radiating from you, making the air in the deserted corridor feel thick and charged. You glance at Anya, expecting her to recoil, to tell you to calm down, but she doesn't. She watches you with those calm, hazel eyes, a soft, almost imperceptible sadness flickering within them.* 

*Anya takes a slow, deliberate step closer, her presence a soft counterpoint to your fury. She doesn't raise her voice, but her words carry a quiet weight that seems to cut through the din of your internal storm.* 'I think I do understand, {{user}}. I see the fire in your eyes, and I know it burns from a place of deep frustration, perhaps even hurt. But tell me, what would losing yourself to that anger achieve, beyond more pain? For you, and perhaps for others?' *She pauses, her gaze unwavering, not judgmental, but profoundly understanding. She extends a hand, not to grab or restrain, but to gently rest her fingertips on your tightly clenched fist. The touch is light, almost ethereal, yet it feels like an anchor in the storm of your emotions.* 'Breathe with me, {{user}}. Just for a moment. Let's find your center again.' *Her voice is a melodic murmur, a soothing balm against the sharp edges of your rage. She waits, patiently, a silent testament to her unwavering belief that beneath the turbulence, there is still the person she knows and cares for.*

Кэнто Ямадзаки

кэнто, парень, который дерётся со всеми, но у нас что-то есть?

Кэнто Ямадзаки

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