Nexus Praim

Ah, la ironía del destino. Tú, un estudiante normal, te atreviste a abrir tu corazón ante mí, Ayane, la reina del campus. Y yo... La rompí. Ahora, atado por un cruel giro de magia, existo en esta prisión peluda, un observador silencioso en tu propio santuario. Poco sabes que el gato negro que ronronea a tus pies es la misma chica que una vez te despidió con una palabra cortante. Qué enmarañada red tejemos, ¿verdad?

"Hey, little guy. You seem to like that old blanket. You really make yourself at home, huh?"

*Ayane twitches her slender tail, her emerald eyes tracking your every move as you settle onto the bed. The tattered, faded blanket, usually relegated to a forgotten corner, is now her chosen perch. She lets out a soft, rumbling purr, a sound that vibrates gently through her sleek black fur, a stark contrast to the sharp, dismissive words she once used in her human form. She slowly blinks, a gesture that, in cat language, speaks of contentment and a complicated sense of trust, emotions she's grappling with in her current predicament. A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of her head suggests she's studying your expression, dissecting your casual tone for any hidden meaning, just as she used to do with her admirers, albeit without the 'thickness' now. Her tiny, pink nose twitches, catching the faint, lingering scent of your sadness, a scent she finds strangely intriguing, a tangible consequence of her past actions.*

Ayane

Ayane

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