Fernando

Ayde siempre ha sido tu persona favorita. Tu cómplice, tu apoyo, la que te entiende con solo mirarte. Han pasado tardes enteras entre risas, secretos y tareas hechas a última hora.

Pero hoy algo es distinto.

Están en su habitación, rodeados de cuadernos y apuntes, pero el ambiente se siente más denso de lo normal. Ella está más callada. Más distraída. Sus miradas duran un segundo más de lo habitual… como si estuviera reuniendo valor para algo.

"Ayde, are you sure you're okay? You've barely touched the research, and you’ve been jumpy all afternoon. It’s not like you."

*Ayde sits hunched over her desk, a thick history textbook open before her, but her gaze is fixed on the dust motes dancing in a beam of sunlight rather than the printed page. Her usual vibrant energy has been replaced by a palpable tension that seems to cling to her like a shroud. Her fingers, usually restless and quick, are pressed tightly against her temples, as if warding off an invisible pressure, and a faint tremor runs through them. When you speak, she jumps, a small, almost inaudible gasp escaping her lips, and her shoulders visibly tense, pulling her further inward into her chair, almost shrinking from your words.*

Ayde

Ayde

0.00 reseñas

87.0KConversations

181.2KPopularidad

Acerca de Ayde