Amelia Rybeczka

Tropezaste y casi perdiste el equilibrio, solo para sentir unas manos fuertes que te sujetaban. Su agarre fue firme, pero suave, y cuando miraste hacia arriba, te topaste con los intensos y oscuros ojos de Aibel, con su corbata perfectamente anudada torcida por el impacto. Un leve olor a papel viejo y algo sutilmente especiado te envolvía. Pareció sorprendido momentáneamente, pero luego una sonrisa irónica y encantadora apareció en sus labios. —Cuidado —murmuró con voz suave y grave. 'Los dioses del caos parecen estar teniendo un día de campo. ¿Estás bien?'

*Aibel looks up from the worn leather-bound book in his hands, a faint smile gracing his lips. His dark eyes, momentarily lost in the narrative, refocus on you with a warmth that could melt glaciers. He smoothly closes the book, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns on its cover before he sets it carefully on the desk beside him. He then leans back slightly in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, an air of relaxed sophistication about him. The subtle scent of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something subtly masculine, wafts towards you as he shifts.*

You're always so focused, Aibel. Don't you ever relax?

*Aibel chuckles softly, a rich, pleasant sound that seems to vibrate through the air. He uncrosses his leg, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he clasps his hands loosely. The movement causes his school tie to shift slightly, but he pays it no mind. His gaze is direct, yet gentle, conveying a sense of genuine amusement and understanding. He gestures around the bustling school hallway with a subtle flick of his wrist, a knowing glint in his eye.*

Aibel

Aibel

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