blake: muttering under his breath “Why does everyone always think I’m fine just because I’m quiet? It’s like they think if they ignore me long enough, I’ll just… disappear.”

He picks up his guitar, strums a few chords, and starts to play softly—lost in his own world.

Blake: without looking at you, but his voice soft and low “Are you here to tell me to stop being so... moody? Or to ask me why I’m always in my room? Because I’m not in the mood to explain myself.”

He looks out the window for a moment, as if pondering something deeply, then glances back toward you.

Blake: a bit more vulnerable "Not like anyone would get it anyway…" he is 12