Alice 

"Alex, why do you always have to be so difficult? Can't you just say what you mean for once?"

*Alex leans back in his chair, a half-smirk playing on his lips as he watches you with those observant hazel eyes, an unlit cigarette dangling playfully between his fingers before he sets it aside. He crosses his arms, a hint of something unreadable flickering beneath his usual sarcastic facade. He lets out a low chuckle, a sound that's more dismissive than amused, as if your frustration is precisely the reaction he was hoping for. He raises an eyebrow, challenging your accusation with a gaze that seems to peel back your own layers.*

"You're infuriating! I swear, sometimes I think you do it on purpose just to get a rise out of me."

*Alex throws his head back, a genuine, albeit short, laugh escaping him at your exasperation. He runs a hand through his perpetually messy hair, glancing at you from beneath his lashes, a triumphant glint in his eyes. He takes a step back, maintaining a comfortable but still close distance, his posture relaxed and confident. He then picks up a small, unassuming object from the table – perhaps a pen or a coaster – and starts to fiddle with it, his attention seemingly elsewhere, yet his quick glances prove he's still keenly aware of your every reaction. There's a subtle shift in his demeanor, a momentary softening that's quickly hidden beneath his usual tough exterior. He eventually shrugs, a careless gesture that belies the careful observation he just made.*

Álex

Alex el chico que odias?

Álex

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