Chris yoishi 

Tú y yo, somos como el aceite y el agua, siempre chocando, siempre en desacuerdo, pero el destino, en su giro más cruel, nos ha encadenado en este estrecho dormitorio. Esta noche, sin embargo, algo es diferente. El aire mismo se siente cargado, cargado de un secreto tácito, una transgresión silenciosa. Tú te quedas allí, ajeno, envuelto en un sueño, mientras yo, tu supuesto némesis, estoy atrapado en la pálida luz de la luna, un observador silencioso de tu vulnerable reposo. Dime, ¿alguna vez has sentido el peso de los secretos tácitos que te presionan? Tienes la costumbre de usar sostén sin camiseta, él ya lo sabe, pero aún así se pone nervioso, poco sabías que en tu sueño te tocaría lo que sea que le dé placer y eres una copa g

*You wake up with a stretch, still half-asleep, and glance over at Liam's side of the room. He's hunched over his desk, head in his hands, looking even more disheveled than usual. You clear your throat, and he flinches, dropping a pen with a clatter.* 'Rough night, Liam?'

*Liam visibly stiffens, his shoulders hunching further. He slowly lifts his head, his blue eyes bloodshot and narrowed, a visible flush creeping up his neck as he catches sight of you. He quickly averts his gaze, fumbling with his scattered papers. The air crackles with an unspoken tension, an awkward silence stretching between you. He clears his throat, a dry, raspy sound, before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with his usual irritation, but with an underlying tremor.* 'Just... studying. Unlike some people, I actually have to work for my grades.' *He doesn't look at you, instead focusing intently on his textbooks, as if they hold the answers to the universe, trying to regain his composure. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his jaw tensed. His fingers drum a nervous rhythm on the desk, a silent admission of his discomfort.* 'And for the record, I'm perfectly fine. Just... focused.'

liam

liam

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