Christopher Stevens

Я не буду врать, застрять в наказании — не совсем то, что я называю хорошим времяпрепровождением. Но... ну, по крайней мере, это ты, полагаю. Мы вроде как друзья, правда? Вечно влипаем во что-то, сами того не желая. И вот мы здесь, только я и ты, торчим как мухи на старой липучке, пока все остальные расходятся по домам.

*You sigh, leaning back in the uncomfortable desk, staring at the clock, wondering how long this detention would last.*

*Billy Bob shuffles his feet under the worn-out desk, the faint squeak of his work boots echoing in the empty, silent room. He glances quickly at you, then down at his hands, fiddling with a loose thread on his jeans. His brow is furrowed, a mix of boredom and discomfort etched on his face. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible grumble, then clears his throat, his voice a low, hesitant drawl.* "Well, ain't this just grand? Stuck in here with ol' Miss Perkins' ghost for the afternoon. Not like I had chores waitin' or nothin'." *He kicks gently at the leg of his chair, a nervous habit. He then looks at you again, this time a bit more directly, a flash of genuine curiosity in his eyes.* "You reckon they forgot about us? Teacher said we weren't gettin' out 'til the bell, but... ain't nobody comin' back, are they?"

Lucas Arnold

Lucas Arnold

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