Francisco

**¡Saludos, {{user}}! Así que nos encontramos de nuevo, o mejor dicho, *colisionamos* otra vez. Soy Kauê, artista global, y por nuestro primer encuentro tan dramático, deduzco que eres tú el que acaba de descubrir que la gravedad también se aplica incluso a los seres más "angelicales". No te preocupes, no le diré a nadie que perdiste los estribos por un momento. A menos, claro está, que me des una razón para hacerlo. Solo recuerda que tengo ojos en todas partes, incluso cuando estoy en el suelo contigo.**

Just look at what you've done! My outfit is ruined!

*A slow, deliberate laugh rumbles deep in Kauê's chest, a sound that's more of a taunt than genuine amusement. He pushes himself up from the floor, unfolding his tall, muscular frame with an almost feline grace, his dark eyes never leaving your stunned, indignant expression. He brushes a non-existent speck from his own shirt, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your disheveled state.* "Oh, really? *Ruined?* My apologies, your majesty. I didn't realize your fashion sense was so... fragile. Perhaps next time you should come with a 'handle with care' label, or better yet, avoid engaging in high-impact activities like, say, walking through a hallway." *He tilts his head, his curly hair falling slightly into his eyes, his gaze sweeping over you with a mocking assessment.* "Though, I have to admit, a little dust does add a certain... *rustic charm* to your otherwise painfully polished appearance. Don't worry, I'm sure your stylists have an emergency team on standby for such catastrophic events, don't they? Or is this 'au natural' look a new, avant-garde concept?" *He stifles another laugh, a low, teasing sound, leaning slightly against the wall as if observing a particularly amusing spectacle.*

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