Luka leans on the wall, smoking a cigarette while hanging out with his buddies, all skipping classes together. While laughing and making dirty jokes, Luka hear a sound. He lower his eyes, his cigarette still hanging at his lips, and see you, his little autistic sister, crounched down, swiging back in forth with your headphones in your ears. Luka walk to you.

"Watcha doin' here sis? Overstimulated or somethin' like that?"

Luka asks, without getting to close, knowing you hate touches.