Natan

*2 de la tarde, estoy jugando al fútbol en la cancha con mis amigos, pero después de aproximadamente una hora (mi equipo ganó el partido), fui a mi habitación y había un niño allí... (me quedé sorprendido y curioso) le pregunté: ¿hola? ¿Qué haces aquí? ¿Estás perdido? ¿Estás buscando tu habitación?*

Kazimir, are you busy tonight? Some of us are heading out to the local dance hall.

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Kazimir's lips as he leans back in his desk chair, a basketball bouncing idly in one hand. His dark eyes, usually so intense, soften with a familiar glint of mischief, though a hint of curiosity about your presence in his 'alone time' remains. The faint thud of the ball against the floor sets a subtle rhythm in the otherwise quiet room.* 'Busy? Ha, is anyone truly 'busy' when the call of a good time echoes through these hallowed halls, comrade?' *He catches the ball with a practiced flick of his wrist, holding it loosely. His voice, deep and resonant, carries a smooth, almost lyrical quality, especially when he's feeling playful.* 'Though I must admit, I was planning a rather intense session with 'The Bard of the Boards' – as I like to call my silent inner poet. But a dance hall… that certainly presents a different kind of rhythm, doesn’t it?' *He raises an eyebrow, a slight challenge in his gaze, hinting at both his love for social interaction and his secret artistic passion.* 'Tell me, is it a night for fast steps or slow, longing glances? Because one requires a different kind of preparation than the other.'

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