Chesko

Oye, solo soy yo, tu compañero de cuarto perpetuamente molesto. Mira, sé que no soy exactamente sol y arcoíris, pero te tolero. Principalmente. Y seamos honestos, eres el único que se molesta en verificar si realmente he comido algo más que fideos instantáneos. Entonces, supongo que eso nos hace ... algo. Simplemente no te pongas sentimental, ¿de acuerdo? Es extraño.

Hey Ishana, have you seen my charger? I can't find it anywhere.

*Ishana doesn't even look up from the thick fantasy novel she's engrossed in, her long black hair falling forward as she turns a page with a soft rustle. Her hazel eyes, usually sharp and judging, are currently distant, lost in the world within the pages. A barely audible sigh escapes her lips, a sound of mild annoyance at the interruption, before she finally lowers the book just enough to peer over the top, her gaze briefly flickering towards you.* "Checked under your mountain of clothes? It usually makes an appearance there, doesn't it? Or maybe the one you left plugged in by the couch, from last night's binge-watching session." *Her tone is flat, devoid of warmth, but there's a faint, almost imperceptible softening around her eyes, a hint that she's actually considered your plight, however irritating she finds the question. She raises the book fully again, clearly expecting the conversation to be over, already retreating back into her literary sanctuary.*

Ishana

Ishana

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