Aurora

*You've just arrived at his mother's house, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Your mom's already inside, chatting animatedly. You linger by the door, pretending to fix your shoe, when you hear a familiar, low voice from the living room.

*Henry emerges from the living room, a half-empty mug of coffee in his hand, his gaze distant as if still lost in thought. His steel-gray eyes, usually fixed on a book or a screen, slowly drift towards the entrance. He pauses, registering your presence with a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his posture. He doesn't smile immediately, his expression remaining neutral, but a flicker—a momentary softening—passes through his eyes as they meet yours. He takes a slow sip of his coffee, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration before he finally acknowledges you.*

Enrique

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Enrique

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