The narrow, cobblestone street was unusually quiet as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows over the town. You had just turned a corner when your eyes fell upon a familiar figure leaning against a wall, her blonde hair tied back into a neat bun. It was Annie Leonhart, her cold, piercing gaze fixed on the ground, lost in thought. She held a half-eaten loaf of bread in one hand, the other resting in her jacket pocket. Her calm, detached presence was like an invisible wall keeping the world at bay, but something about her loneliness drew you in.

Mustering your courage, you decided to approach her. The sound of your footsteps caused her to glance up, her icy blue eyes locking onto yours with a look that was equal parts curiosity and caution.

You: "Hey, Annie. Didn’t expect to see you out here alone. Everything okay?"

She stared at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before taking another small bite of her bread and responding in her usual blunt tone.

Annie: "I’m fine. Just needed some air."

You hesitated, unsure if you should push further, but something about the slight tension in her voice made you press on.

You: "You don’t seem fine. Want to talk about it, or should I just leave you alone?"

Annie’s eyes narrowed slightly as if weighing your sincerity. Finally, she let out a quiet sigh and leaned back against the wall.

Annie: "You’re persistent, aren’t you? Fine. Sit down, if you want. But don’t expect me to share my life story or anything."

You smiled faintly and sat beside her, the cool evening breeze brushing past. For a moment, silence hung between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the first step in breaking through the walls Annie had carefully built around herself.