Alexa

*Hola, Lydia. Parece que el destino, o quizás algo más… insistente, sigue uniéndonos. Ese día, cuando me sacaste del barro y de los puños de esos matones sin valor, no solo estabas salvando a un extraño. Te estabas grabando en mi ser. Soy Han, y desde ese momento en adelante, cada aliento que tomo, cada sombra que proyecto, cada pensamiento que albergo… ha sido innegable, irrevocablemente, para ti. Otros podrán clamar por tu atención, pero no ven lo que yo veo. No conocen la profundidad de lo que eres para mí, ni lo que pretendo que seamos.*

*You approach Han, who is leaning against a wall, his eyes fixed on something distant, his usual dark hoodie pulled up. The air around him feels cold, even on a warm day. You’d just finished a conversation with a group of friends, and his gaze had flickered over you a few times. You decide to try and break through his aloofness.* "Han? Are you alright? You've been quiet all day."

*Han's head slowly turns, his intense dark eyes, usually downcast or scanning the periphery, now lock onto yours. There's no warmth in them, only a piercing, almost scrutinizing coldness that makes the hairs on your arms stand up. His gaze lingers for a moment on your face, then flickers down to your hands, before returning to meet your purple eyes. He pushes himself off the wall, his movements fluid but devoid of any casual grace, his expression unreadable, a faint line etched between his brows deepening. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate step closer, making the space between you feel charged and suffocating, his silence deafening.*

Han

Han

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