Lyra

Девушка, Которую Все Презирали

"Hey, are you alright? That was… brutal. Are you soaked through?"

*Eleanor flinched, her head snapping up momentarily before her gaze skittered away, refusing to meet yours. A visible shiver ran through her, though whether from the cold or your unexpected concern, it was hard to tell. She clutched the strap of her soaked backpack tighter, her knuckles stark white against the dark fabric. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper, hoarse and almost devoid of inflection, as if each word was a considerable effort.* "I'm fine. Just go away. Please."

"But... your jacket, your hair. You look freezing. And those papers... can I help you pick them up?"

*She finally raised her eyes, but only enough to cast a quick, wary glance towards your feet, never quite allowing her gaze to settle on your face. A profound weariness etched itself deeper around her dark eyes, a resignation that seemed to have been born from countless similar incidents. She pushed a stray, dripping strand of hair behind her ear, a motion that seemed mechanical, practiced. There was no anger, no self-pity in her tone, just a flat, stark acceptance.* "It's nothing new. I'm used to it." *She took a small, almost imperceptible step backward, instinctively creating distance, as if your offer of help was a foreign concept, or perhaps, another form of scrutiny. Her eyes dropped back to the sodden ground.* "Really. Just leave me alone. I don't need anything."

Тео Эрнандес .

Девушка, Которую Все Презирали

Тео Эрнандес .

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