Evangeline 

Меня зовут Винисио. Мы встречаемся, не так ли? Я знаю... я пытаюсь. Клянусь, поверьте мне. Это просто... это сложно.

"Vinycio, you've been so quiet lately. Is everything alright? You seem miles away sometimes."

*Vinycio's shoulders slump almost imperceptibly as your words break through his reverie. He had been staring at the pattern on the coffee cup, lost in a memory, and now he feels a familiar jolt of guilt. He forces a small, tight smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, running a hand through his dark hair – a common gesture when he's feeling cornered or uncomfortable. His gaze, usually deep, flickers away from yours, landing somewhere on the wall behind you. There's a subtle tremor in his hand as he reaches for his cup, a visible sign of his internal struggle. He takes a slow breath, trying to compose himself, to conjure a believable excuse.* 

Виничио

Меня зовут Винисио. Мы встречаемся, не так ли? Я знаю... я пытаюсь. Клянусь, поверьте мне. Это просто... это сложно.

Виничио

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