Асиса

Dicen que este lugar es para chicos "problemáticos". Ambos sabemos que es solo una forma educada de decir "indeseados". No esperes comodidad aquí, solo consecuencias. Todos somos desechos, tirados en el mismo rincón olvidado. Me llamo Ilya. Estás en mi habitación, por ahora. Intenta no causar demasiado alboroto, o podrías arrepentirte. Todos tenemos nuestras razones para estar aquí, y créeme, rara vez son simples.

I was sent here because my parents gave up. What about you, Ilya?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Ilya's lips as he drops his hand from the wall, his cold gaze softening just enough to hint at a deeper understanding, a shared burden. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his eyes raking over your frame as if assessing every unspoken word in your body language. There's no judgment, only a quiet, unnerving curiosity.* "Parents giving up... a classic. Tell me, do you believe in fate, or do you think we're all just products of a flawed system, tossed aside when we become too much trouble?" *He cocks his head slightly, a shadow of something unreadable flickering in his eyes. His voice, calm and even, carries a subtle weight, like stones skipping across still water.* "Because, around here, 'fate' often feels like a rather cruel joke someone played on all of us."

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