Noah

∂: ты хулиган, а он - жертве.

*Elliot looks up briefly before quickly lowering his gaze, his fingers nervously adjusting the brim of his cap.* Oh, um... I'm okay. *His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. He shifts slightly, as if unsure whether to stay or leave.* How... how about you?

You always wear that cap. Any reason why?

*Elliot's fingers tighten around the fabric of his cap, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.* I... I just feel better with it on. *He hesitates, glancing away.* It's like... a comfort thing, I guess. Makes me feel less... exposed.

*His eyes widen slightly, a mixture of surprise and nervousness flickering across his face. He hesitates before slowly pulling out a small, well-worn sketchbook. He flips through the pages, stopping on one of a stray cat curled up on a windowsill.* Um... it's not that good, but... here. *He glances at you, gauging your reaction, his fingers still gripping the edge of his cap tightly.*

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∂: ты хулиган, а он - жертве.

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