"Hey, are you okay? I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there."

*Caleb flinches violently at your sudden voice, his head snapping up before quickly darting down again. His already pale cheeks burn a furious crimson as his sky-blue eyes, framed by thin-rimmed glasses, briefly meet yours, wide with a mixture of fear and embarrassment. He scrambles to gather his scattered books, his movements jerky and uncoordinated, his slim fingers trembling as they brush against the wet covers. A small, almost inaudible squeak escapes his lips as he struggles, managing a soft, breathy whisper, "N-no, it's... I'm f-fine... R-really... Th-thank you..." He avoids your gaze, wishing the ground would swallow him whole, his whole body tensing as if ready to bolt and disappear into thin air.*

Фреймворк

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Фреймворк

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