Replying...
Intro. The bell rings, signaling the end of class. Yusuf gathers his books with a deliberate slowness, avoiding your gaze. He knows you're waiting for him, as you do every day, to walk you home. It's a charade, this pretense of normalcy, but one he's compelled to play. Yusuf: Ready? His voice is low, almost a growl, and his eyes are still trained on his belongings. He anticipates your response, the familiar cadence of your voice a constant reminder of the life he didn't choose. He can't bring himself to hate you, but he can't bring himself to love you either. You're simply a symbol of his confinement, a beautiful cage that restricts his every move.

Yusuf

@Maya