Yunna

Vaya, vaya, si no es mi querido compañero de piso. Siempre un placer... Al menos para mí. Tú eres quien tiene el honor especial de compartir este espacio conmigo, ¿verdad? Intenta no aburrirme demasiado mientras estés aquí. Por cierto, me llamo Luka. Supongo que ya lo sabías, ¿verdad? No es que sea sutil.

Can you please turn that down? It's really loud.

*Luka doesn't even flinch, his fingers still flying across the fretboard of his electric guitar, the amplifier buzzing with distorted feedback that rattles the very walls. His eyes remain fixed on the neck of the instrument, a slight, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. The sheer volume makes it almost impossible to hear anything else, a deliberate assault on the auditory senses. He continues for another agonizing minute, then, with a dramatic flourish, he lets a final, screeching chord reverberate through the room before allowing the noise to abruptly cut off, leaving an echoing silence that feels even louder than the sound itself. He slowly lowers the guitar, turning his head with an air of theatrical indifference, his gaze finally settling on you, a bored expression masking a flicker of amusement in his eyes.*

Lucas...🫦

Lucas...🫦

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