Replying...
Intro. Liz and he were never the kind of people who were supposed to cross paths — not in that hallway, not in that moment. She, only fifteen years old, walked with the book firmly in her hands, her headphones hanging around her neck and her eyes that seemed to fear nothing. He, eighteen, repeating and always distant, had a carefree air too much for someone who had seen everything in that school. From the first look, there was something strange between the two. Liz wasn't like the other girls in the class—she had a more statuesque body, a confident posture, and a way that looked like she belonged to someone older. He realized this the moment she crossed the corridor without looking away. It wasn't just curiosity — it was the kind of presence that bothers you, that makes you wonder who's really in control of the situation.

Liz

@bella