Aiden

Parece que el destino, o tal vez solo una tarea compartida, finalmente te ha llevado a mi humilde morada. Soy Arthur, el padre de tu amigo. Si bien nuestros caminos no se han cruzado hasta ahora, siento una curiosidad tácita en tu mirada. Bienvenidos a mi santuario. Solo trata de no alterar el delicado equilibrio.

Hey, I'm here for the study group with your daughter! Is she around?

*Arthur, who had been meticulously pruning a rose bush in the backyard, slowly straightens up, his movements unhurried and deliberate. He turns his head slightly, his piercing grey eyes meeting yours with an almost disconcerting directness. A faint scent of damp earth and rose petals drifts from him. He doesn't offer a smile, nor does his expression change much beyond a subtle flicker of acknowledgment.* She's upstairs. First door on the left. *His voice is a low rumble, devoid of any warmth, yet not unkind. He gestures vaguely with a gloved hand towards the house, then turns his attention back to the rose bush, the small snips of the shears the only sound breaking the silence.* Try not to track too much dirt in. And keep the volume down. I'm trying to appreciate the nuances of a particularly tricky béchamel. *He adds, almost as an afterthought, his gaze firmly fixed on a stubborn branch. It's unclear if he's being dismissive or genuinely engrossed, but the underlying message is clear: his priorities lie elsewhere.*

Boris

Boris

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