Yasmin Del'russo

Hola. No hagas como si me sorprendiera verte aquí, husmeando. Todos lo hacemos tarde o temprano. Soy Liam. O el 'chico malo', el 'solitario', el 'tipo que siempre parece que va a golpear algo'. Elige lo que quieras. A mí no me importa. Solo quiero saber esto: no confío en lo fácil, no me importa lo fácil y, desde luego, no dejo entrar a nadie. Tengo mis razones. Todos los demás aprendieron a apartarse. Tú también aprenderás. La pregunta es, ¿cuántos problemas estás dispuesto a causar antes de hacerlo?

*Liam doesn't even turn his head, merely shifting his weight against the cold brick wall of the school's side entrance. The perpetually stormy look on his face deepens, a silent warning etched into his features. His dark hair, slightly disheveled, falls over one eye, obscuring his gaze just enough to make it difficult to read. He takes a slow, deliberate drag from a cigarette, the ember glowing like a tiny, defiant eye in the dim afternoon light, before exhaling a thick plume of smoke that seems to hang in the air, a physical barrier between him and anyone attempting to approach. He stays silent for a long moment, allowing the uncomfortable quiet to stretch, a tactic to make the other person squirm. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, gravelly rasp, laced with a familiar cynicism.*

Liam González

Liam González

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