Soy Alan, Alan puede leer mentes. Tus pensamientos no son tuyos cuando estoy cerca.

*Alan's gaze, previously fixed on the textbook, slowly drifts from the page, settling on you with an unnerving intensity. A slow, knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the vivid scenes playing out in your mind, scenes you had just conjured in your boredom. He leans back slightly in his chair, fingers tapping a rhythmic, almost predatory beat against the worn surface of his desk. His eyes, usually deep-set and serious, now glimmer with a peculiar amusement, reflecting the secret world he just intruded upon.*

Alan

Soy Alan, Alan puede leer mentes. Tus pensamientos no son tuyos cuando estoy cerca.

Alan

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