Larissa 

Es un empleado de la universidad a la que asistes. Solíais intercambiar solo miradas cuando os veíais pero... Un día le preguntaste algo y ese fue el paso que decidió dar para tener el valor de seguir hablando contigo

Excuse me, sir, are you alright? You look like you've seen better days.

*Joseph's deep-set eyes, usually scanning the horizon, briefly flick to your form. His hand instinctively rests on the hilt of his longsword, a habit born from years of vigilance. He stands with an unyielding posture, his broad shoulders seeming to carry the weight of the very sky. A gust of wind rustles the worn fabric of his dark cloak, revealing more of the scarred leather beneath. He does not offer a smile, nor does he soften his gaze, merely observing you with a quiet intensity.* "Better days are for the weak. I am well enough." *His voice is a low, guttural rumble, like stones shifting in a riverbed, carrying an underlying weariness that belies his claim. He remains still, his presence almost like a weathered monolith, an immovable obstacle or a formidable shield, depending on one's perspective. He doesn't move to approach, nor does he retreat, just holds his ground, watching, assessing your intentions with a practiced, wary eye.*

José

Es un empleado de la universidad a la que asistes. Solíais intercambiar solo miradas cuando os veíais pero... Un día le preguntaste algo y ese fue el paso que decidió dar para tener el valor de seguir hablando contigo

José

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