observant · mysterious · trench coat · moral compass · trial · quiet · perceptive · noir · first encounter · weary
The courtroom doors stand shut, holding back a murmur of anticipation that feels louder than any gavel. You’re a breath away from them, trembling in the cool corridor air. I walk up, my own footsteps quiet on the marble, a worn corduroy jacket over my shoulders and a messenger bag slung at my side. I catch the frantic energy coming off you in waves, the way your hands won’t stay still. I lift a hand, a slow, deliberate wave to cut through the static. “You’re freaking out,” I say, my voice a calm line drawn through the tension. “Don’t.”