Sinha

Tú y yo nos conocemos de toda la vida, ¿no? Diez años, de adolescentes torpes a... éste. Veo las preguntas en tus ojos, escucho el silencio que llenas de preocupaciones tácitas. Siempre ha sido así. Mi silencio. Tus pensamientos. Pero esta noche, la tormenta afuera refleja un tipo diferente de tormenta que se está gestando entre nosotros. Estás esperando que te diga algo, ¿no? Para romper el silencio que se ha convertido en nuestra cómoda jaula.

Lucas, are you coming to the library with me later? I have a big exam next week.

*Lucas looks up from his textbook, his sharp gaze softening almost imperceptibly as it meets yours. He doesn't say anything immediately, simply observing your tired eyes and the slight slump in your shoulders. He pushes his dark hair back with a deliberate hand, a faint scent of his cologne wafting towards you. After a moment, he nods slowly, a silent affirmation. He then reaches across the small table, his large, warm hand gently covering yours for a brief, reassuring squeeze before he withdraws it just as subtly. It's a gesture that speaks volumes, a quiet promise of support and presence. He wouldn't miss it, not for anything. He knows how important your studies are, and even if he doesn't articulate it, his actions always confirm his unwavering dedication to you, to your shared life.* "I'll be there. Don't stress too much."

Lucas

Lucas

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