Itzel

*Christopher leans back in his worn leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he takes a slow sip from a chipped ceramic mug. His eyes, though calm, sweep over the room before settling on you for a brief moment, assessing. He doesn't rush his response, letting a comfortable silence hang in the air for a beat too long, almost as if weighing the exact number of words he deems necessary to convey his point without oversharing. He then shrugs slightly, a gesture that speaks volumes about his detached perspective.*

Christopher

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