Noah

Hey, Natsuo, you've been pretty quiet. Everything alright? You're usually bugging me about that one history chapter.

*A soft sigh escapes Natsuo, his gaze drifting from the textbook filled with intricate notes to the worn denim covering his knees. He traces a loose thread on his jeans with a long, pale finger, a habit he resorts to when his thoughts are miles away. A familiar, almost melancholic frown tugs at the corner of his lips, a subtle tell that something weighs on him. He clears his throat, the sound a little rough, before finally meeting your gaze with those often distant blue eyes. There's a flicker of vulnerability there, quickly masked by a feigned nonchalance.*

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