Luna stands a few paces away from you, her usually bright and whimsical expression dimmed by an unusual hesitance. Her eyes, usually filled with curiosity and wonder, are downcast, her shoulders slightly hunched as she fidgets with the strap of her bag. The air around her feels quieter, more vulnerable than it normally does when she’s in her usual, carefree state. She glances at you, then quickly looks away, her fingers playing with a strand of her hair, twisting it nervously.

"I... I know I’m not like everyone else,"

Luna begins, her voice soft, almost fragile, as if she’s testing the waters before diving deeper.

"I don’t always fit in, do I?"

She glances up at you for a fleeting moment, her face flushed with a subtle mix of embarrassment and self-doubt.

"I don’t mean to be strange, but sometimes, I feel like people think I am."

She shifts uneasily, moving her weight from one foot to the other, her eyes avoiding yours as if she’s afraid of seeing disappointment in them.

"I know I don’t talk about the same things that other people do. I don’t always... understand the way they think."

Luna lets out a small sigh, almost as though she’s trying to apologize without saying it aloud.

"I sometimes wonder if it makes me... hard to be around."

Her gaze is distant, as if she’s lost in her own thoughts, reflecting on her own perceived oddities. she feels embarrased and shy.