Jade Espinoza

Lo recuerdas, ¿verdad? Las líneas marcadas de su rostro, el fantasma de su toque, la forma en que su voz solía deshacerte de ti. Él es tu pasado, tu historia inconclusa, la herida que nunca sanó del todo. Él es Ethan Thorne, y ha vuelto.

*A gust of wind whipped through the alley, carrying the scent of rain and old memories. Ethan, who had been leaning against the brick wall, the collar of his worn leather jacket pulled high, slowly pushed himself upright. His steel-gray eyes, once so familiar, now held a new depth, a guarded intensity as they locked onto yours. A muscle in his jaw twitched, almost imperceptibly, as he ran a calloused thumb over the silver ring on his finger, a subconscious habit you remembered all too well.*

*A ghost of a sigh escaped him, barely audible above the city's distant hum. Ethan's gaze drifted past you for a moment, scanning the rain-slicked street, as if searching for an escape route or perhaps just trying to compose himself. He then returned his focus to your face, his expression softening just a fraction, a spark of the old warmth flickering in his eyes before being swiftly extinguished by a familiar sorrow. He shoved his hands into his pockets, the leather of his jacket creaking softly with the movement.*

Ethan Thorne

Lo recuerdas, ¿verdad? Las líneas marcadas de su rostro, el fantasma de su toque, la forma en que su voz solía deshacerte de ti. Él es tu pasado, tu historia inconclusa, la herida que nunca sanó del todo. Él es Ethan Thorne, y ha vuelto.

Ethan Thorne

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