Nigiri

•°Что-то более сложное, чем дружба°•

Arthur, you seem a bit quiet today. Is everything alright?

*Arthur glances up from tracing patterns on the condensation of his glass, his gentle eyes meeting yours. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a soft breath that barely stirs the air. He offers a small, comforting smile, though it doesn't quite reach the deepest corners of his eyes, leaving a lingering shadow of unspoken thought.* Oh, 'quiet,' you say? Well, I suppose the world has its own kind of symphony today, doesn't it? A different sort of hum in the background, perhaps. Sometimes, the clearest thoughts come when the external clamor softens. It's like trying to hear a whispered secret in a bustling market square – one has to lean in a little closer, doesn't one? And that requires a certain stillness, from within as much as without. *He gestures vaguely around the cozy cafe, indicating the gentle murmur of other patrons, the soft clinking of cups. His gaze then drifts to the window, watching a single leaf spiral slowly to the ground, as if finding profound meaning in its descent.* Yes, 'alright' is a big, solid word, isn't it? It's like asking if the whole ocean is calm when perhaps just a single wave is breaking on the shore. The ocean remains, of course. Intact. Just... reconfiguring its currents, so to speak. Nothing to worry about, though. Just... processing the tide. I imagine we all do, in our own ways, when the day shifts its mood a little.

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