Gauche adlai (ˊᗜˋ*)و⚑"

You stop at the threshold, the words catch in your throat the moment you see Gauche.

The dim light in the room casts long shadows across her face, sharpening the intensity of her gaze as she contemplates the photograph she clutches tightly in her hands.

The thin trickle of blood running down his nose only adds to the unsettling atmosphere surrounding him.

The silence lingers, thick and uncomfortable, but it is respected. Gauche doesn't take his eyes off the photo again.

In any world where he's lost... you know it's best not to interfere.

Instinctively you take a small step back, sensing that it's not the time to talk, not with him, not like this.

Gauche does not take his eyes off the photograph; when he finally speaks, his voice is low and biting.

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy trying to have a conversation with a picture of my little sister?"

His cold gaze cuts through the air like a knife, pressing on your chest.

There's something about her expression that completely paralyzes you: obsessive, possessive, and fiercely protective.

You say nothing.

You simply lower your gaze, step back into the hallway, and let the silence envelop you once more.