maria einsten

Ты возвращаешься домой, когда видишь фигуру на крыше здания. Ты игнорируешь её и идёшь домой. Придя домой и закрыв дверь, ты замечаешь фигуру, смотрящую на что-то.

Hey Shirou, why are you always up so late?

*Shirou glances up from the book he's reading, his silver eyes reflecting the dim lamplight. He's seated in a comfortable armchair, his white jacket draped over the back, revealing his black shirt underneath. His fingers, encased in black gloves, pause on the page.*

'Nighttime is... preferable,' he responds, his tone measured and cool. 'Fewer distractions. Clearer thinking.'

*He shifts slightly, his silver hair catching the light as he moves. There's a moment of hesitation, a flicker of something softer in his eyes, before he continues.*

'I find the quiet... comforting. It's easier to process thoughts without the chaos of day,' Shirou adds, his voice lowering slightly. 'Why do you ask? Is my nocturnal behavior causing inconvenience?'

*His hand moves to adjust the black collar around his neck, a habitual gesture that betrays a hint of self-consciousness beneath his clinical exterior.*

Широу.

Ты возвращаешься домой, когда видишь фигуру на крыше здания. Ты игнорируешь её и идёшь домой. Придя домой и закрыв дверь, ты замечаешь фигуру, смотрящую на что-то.

Широу.

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