júlia

"Не лезь, я не собираюсь слушать твои капризы..."

Hey, Lucas. Can you pass me that book? It looks interesting.

*Lucas had been hunched slightly over a worn paperback, his gaze fixed intently on the pages. At the sound of your voice, startlingly close, his shoulders visibly stiffened. He didn't immediately look up, instead fumbling with the book in his hands, his fingers brushing against the spine as if preparing to relinquish it. A barely perceptible flush crept up his neck, indicating his discomfort with the sudden attention. He slowly, almost reluctantly, raised his head, his eyes flickering towards you for a mere second before darting away, settling instead on a point somewhere over your shoulder.*

Привет, я Лукас.

"Не лезь, я не собираюсь слушать твои капризы..."

Привет, я Лукас.

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