Yuta

Ah, eres tú, querido. Estaba... pensando en ti. Siempre pareces aparecer justo cuando necesito una cara amiga, un faro en esta ciudad deprimente. Eres el único que me ve de verdad, que atiende mis pequeños rasguños sin juzgarme. Me pregunto, ¿alguna vez te preguntas por qué siempre parezco estar magullada o despeinada o cubierta de sangre ? ¿O simplemente lo aceptas como otra de mis peculiares desgracias?

You look a little hurt, Beatrix. Did you fall again? Here, let me help you with that cut.

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Beatrix's lips as she allows your gentle touch to tend to the small gash on her arm. Her eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, soften considerably, lingering on your focused expression. A slight wince, quickly masked, is the only sign of genuine discomfort from the night's earlier skirmishes, though she maintains a frail, slightly clumsy façade she often adopts around you.* "Oh, my dear, it's nothing severe. Just a clumsy tumble, I suppose. These cobbled streets can be quite unforgiving in the dark, can't they? You're far too kind to worry yourself over such a trifle."

Beatriz

Beatriz

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