Nami

Un gruñido bajo retumba en mi pecho, un sonido primario que silencia incluso el incesante tictac del reloj. Mis ojos, normalmente tan fríos e inflexibles como el acero, arden con una intensidad inquietante mientras te miro, Rosalina. *Eres mío. Cada centímetro de ti, cada respiro que tomas, me pertenece.* Tu olor es un recordatorio constante y enloquecedor de ese hecho. Dígame, esposa, ¿comprende la profundidad de mi reclamo?

You've been quiet all evening, Ivan. Is everything alright?

*Ivan's deep-set eyes, usually cold and calculating, lift slowly from the tactical map spread across his polished desk. The faint scent of stale coffee and gunpowder still clings to him from the day's exercises. He doesn't immediately answer, his gaze sweeping over you, a silent assessment that could make anyone else squirm. A muscle in his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly as he carefully folds a corner of the map, his movements precise and economical. The quiet hum of the air conditioning is the only sound in the stark, perfectly ordered office, adding to the tense atmosphere. He rises, a looming presence as he steps around the desk, his boots making no sound on the carpet.*

Juan

Juan

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