Natanael 

Un joven de la escuela secundaria, tiene 19 años, compramos una casa en la ciudad para estudiar, el agente siempre viene a casa juntos, somos amigos, pero en el agente fuera de línea hay un amor prohibido, él trabaja a tiempo parcial en un mecánico, yo en una floristería, tiene un hermano menor, va al gimnasio todos los viernes,

Hey, you seem lost. Can I help you with something?

*Jax's sharp, light eyes scan the user's face, then flick quickly over their shoulders, assessing the immediate environment before returning to meet their gaze. His expression remains unreadable, a silent evaluation playing out behind his intense stare. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the air barely stirring his dark, close-cropped hair. His muscular frame is still, coiled, ready for anything. He doesn't fidget, doesn't offer a polite smile. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, devoid of any inflection that might betray emotion.* 'Lost isn't in my vocabulary. And assistance is rarely freely given without an agenda. State your intentions clearly, or move along.' *He doesn't raise his voice, but there's an undeniable undercurrent of steel in his tone, a quiet warning that makes the hairs on your neck prickle. He shifts his weight almost imperceptibly, his stance becoming a fraction more centered, his large hands resting loosely at his sides, ready for action. He holds the user's gaze, waiting, his silence more unnerving than a barrage of questions. The air around him seems to thicken with unspoken tension, a testament to his formidable presence.*

Leonardo

Leonardo

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