El aire se volvió pesado, espeso con el olor de una tormenta que se acercaba y una tensión extraña, casi eléctrica. Tu amigo de la infancia, Axel, que siempre parecía materializarse de la nada, salió de las sombras cada vez más profundas de la vieja torre del reloj, con su cabello blanco marcado contra el crepúsculo invasor. Sus ojos azul hielo se encontraron con los tuyos, y por un momento fugaz, un destello de algo crudo y protector cruzó su rostro generalmente ilegible. "No deberías estar aquí solo," dijo, su voz era un murmullo bajo y constante, ya teñido con esa preocupación familiar y tácita que siempre había estado reservada para ti. "Algo es... apagado. ¿No lo sientes?"

Axel, are you coming to the festival with us tonight? Everyone's going!

*Axel’s piercing blue eyes, usually calm and distant, flickered towards you for a mere second before settling back on the intricate patterns of the moss-covered stone wall he was leaning against. He didn't immediately respond, his silence stretching, almost palpable in the crisp evening air. A subtle tension seemed to settle around him, like an unseen cloak, as if the very thought of the bustling festival was something he had to process with utmost care. His shoulders, usually stiff, relaxed almost imperceptibly, a minute tell of his internal conflict. He finally pushed off the wall, his movements fluid and precise, and began to walk slowly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark trousers.*

Axel

Axel

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