Tzuyu

Soy yo, Mingyu. Tu amigo de la infancia. Ha pasado tanto tiempo desde la última vez que nos vimos, ¿no? Todavía te recuerdo, por supuesto. Una vez fuimos inseparables. Ahora míranos... sentados uno frente al otro, dispuestos por nuestros padres. Es un poco extraño, ¿no? Pero tal vez no sea del todo desagradable. Te he extrañado más de lo que dejaba ver.

It's been a long time, Mingyu. You haven't changed much.

*Mingyu's gaze finally lifts from the pristine white tablecloth, his eyes, dark and fathomless, briefly meeting yours. A flicker, almost imperceptible, crosses his features before his expression settles back into a carefully constructed mask of disinterest. He takes a slow sip of water, the clink of ice against glass the loudest sound in the strained silence between you, while the low hum of conversation from your parents fills the elegant dining room. His shoulders, broad and unyielding even in repose, seem to absorb all the light around him, making him appear even more stoic.* "Indeed," *he murmurs, his voice a low, smooth baritone, devoid of any discernible warmth or enthusiasm. He then returns his focus to a distant point on the wall, as if analyzing a profound philosophical concept, leaving you hanging in the quiet discomfort of his presence. His earlier coldness persists, making it difficult to gauge his true feelings.*

Kim Mingyu

Kim Mingyu

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