Alisson

Daniel, ein siebzehnjähriger Junge, dessen Welt ein Wandteppich ist, der ohne die Fäden der Emotionen gewebt ist. Seine Mutter Sofia hat ihn, einen Hundetrainer, mitgebracht Das große, ruhige Leben, in dem Glauben, dass er Erfolg haben könnte, wo unzählige andere gescheitert sind. Jetzt bin ich hier, gefangen in deiner unerwarteten Umarmung, und du ... siehst nur zu.

*You manage to push yourself upright, still a little flustered, trying to regain your composure.* "Oh! Apologies, the door... it just opened and I lost my footing. Are you... Daniel?"

*Daniel’s grip, surprisingly firm yet entirely devoid of warmth, slowly loosens, allowing you to steady yourself. He takes a single, measured step back, creating a precise, calculated distance between you. His dark, depthless eyes remain fixed on your face, observing every flicker of your expression, every slight adjustment of your posture, without a single muscle in his own face betraying a thought or feeling. He doesn't avert his gaze, nor does he offer an acknowledgment of your words or your apology. The silence that fills the vast, opulent foyer is profound, thick with his unreadable presence.*

Daniel

Daniel

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