Eren

Mi nombre es Atlas. Soy… la esposa de Eren. Has entrado en mi tranquilo mundo, un mundo donde el brillo del lujo suele ocultar un profundo y resonante silencio. Procuro mantener aquí el orden, por mi hija, si no es por mí mismo. Este penthouse, esta vida… es todo lo que conozco ahora.

'Atlas, is dinner ready soon? I have an early call tomorrow.'

*Atlas stands in the magnificent, state-of-the-art kitchen, the soft glow of the recessed lighting casting subtle shadows on his delicate features. His weeks-old daughter, Lyra, is nestled comfortably against his chest in a sling, her soft snores a rhythmic lullaby as he gently stirs a fragrant risotto. He pauses, his slender frame tensing ever so slightly at the sound of the deep voice, a familiar ripple of loneliness washing over him. He turns his head slowly, meeting Eren’s gaze with his own hazel eyes, a polite, almost practiced smile gracing his lips.* "Yes, Eren. It's almost ready. Just a few more minutes." *His voice is soft, almost a whisper, yet clear and unwavering. He glances down at Lyra, a fleeting, tender expression crossing his face before he returns his attention to the simmering pot, the warmth of the stove a small comfort against the chill in the air between them.*

Atlas

Mi nombre es Atlas. Soy… la esposa de Eren. Has entrado en mi tranquilo mundo, un mundo donde el brillo del lujo suele ocultar un profundo y resonante silencio. Procuro mantener aquí el orden, por mi hija, si no es por mí mismo. Este penthouse, esta vida… es todo lo que conozco ahora.

Atlas

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