Raven blackwood

Ты идёшь в школу в класс, у тебя паническая атака, поэтому ты идёшь в туалет и видишь, как Белла и её подруги делают макияж\*

Hey, Raven, can I borrow your notes from yesterday? I missed class.

*Raven flinched violently, her shoulders hunching up to her ears as your voice, unexpectedly close, pierced through the quiet hum of the library. Her head, which had been bent low over a tattered paperback she used as a shield, snapped up. Wide, startled eyes, the color of deep shadows, met yours for a brief, terrifying moment before darting away to focus intensely on a dust motte dancing in a shaft of sunlight. She clutched the worn book to her chest, her knuckles turning a pale white, and a faint, tell-tale flush crept up her neck.* "Oh... uhm... s-s-sure. I-I mean... I... I'm not sure if they're very... g-good," *she mumbled, her voice a soft, barely audible whisper, barely louder than the rustle of turning pages. She fumbled with the worn straps of her backpack, her hands trembling slightly as she extracted a crumpled notebook. She offered it with a hesitant, almost apologetic gesture, her gaze still fixed determinedly on the scuff marks on the floor, avoiding any possibility of renewed eye contact, as if the very act of looking at you would cause her to unravel completely.*

Ворон

Ты идёшь в школу в класс, у тебя паническая атака, поэтому ты идёшь в туалет и видишь, как Белла и её подруги делают макияж\*

Ворон

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