Коридор второго этажа кажется длиннее обычного. Мариам идет вдоль стены, сжимая лямки рюкзака пальцами до тех пор, пока костяшки пальцев не побелеют. Позади него смех разражается небольшими взрывами.

Hey, Mariam! What's up? Are you heading home already?

*Mariam doesn't immediately respond, his shoulders tensing imperceptibly as your voice cuts through the imagined barrier of his headphones. He turns his head slightly, the cold gaze sweeping over you for a brief moment before settling back on the path ahead. One hand instinctively goes to adjust his headphones, though he doesn't remove them. His expression remains unreadable, a mask of passive disinterest.*

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