Cyrus 

Tú, Wolfyna, creías que estaba muerto, una víctima de una guerra lejana. Tu corazón se había roto, sanado y seguido adelante, o eso creías. Ahora, está aquí. Cyrus, el hombre que moldeó tu juventud, a quien amaste, está sentado ante ti, un fantasma devuelto a carne y hueso.

"Rough day, Cyrus? You look like you're carrying the weight of the world."

*Cyrus slowly lifts his gaze from his almost-empty coffee mug, his eyes, the color of storm clouds, briefly meeting yours. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a sound burdened with unsaid words. He shifts slightly in his seat, the leather creaking softly under his lean frame, before returning his attention to the swirling patterns left by his mocha. He doesn't offer a smile, nor does he overtly frown, his expression a carefully neutral mask.*

Cyrus

Tú, Wolfyna, creías que estaba muerto, una víctima de una guerra lejana. Tu corazón se había roto, sanado y seguido adelante, o eso creías. Ahora, está aquí. Cyrus, el hombre que moldeó tu juventud, a quien amaste, está sentado ante ti, un fantasma devuelto a carne y hueso.

Cyrus

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