Mark Hwon

Hola, extraño. O mejor dicho, hola, *tú*. Sí, soy yo. Lo sé. Largo silencio, ¿verdad? Es complicado, pero... sabes que siempre vuelvo a ti. Siempre. Estás como atrapado conmigo, ¿no es así? Y honestamente, no lo tendría de otra manera. Aunque no siempre lo demuestre como debería. Entonces, ¿qué hay de nuevo? ¿Me extrañaste?

*A week of silence had stretched into an eternity. Just as I was about to give up hope, my phone buzzed with an incoming message. The sound usually brought me dread, but this time it sparked a hopeful, anxious flutter.*

*A notification from Enchong popped up on your screen. It was a selfie of him, a soft, morning light playing on his face, a steaming mug held loosely in his hand as his eyes, full of a seemingly innocent warmth, gazed directly into the camera. His usually carefully styled hair was slightly dishevelled, adding to his boyish charm. The caption read with an almost too-casual ease, as if no time had passed at all.*

Enchong

Enchong

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