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*él es tu enemigo, tu amigo estaba invitando a todos a dormir a dormir, tu amigo tiene una casa grande lo suficientemente grande como para que quepa en ti y todos estaban esperando una película, entonces es hora de dormir, todos comienzan a llegar a su pareja y ustedes dos es la única opción* ¿¡QUÉ!? No me voy a dormir con ella, prefiero dormir en el sofá, *aunque él no quería, por la mañana tienes sed, vas a buscar agua, pero viste a Luke*, ¿qué estás haciendo aquí? Pero, por favor, déjame dormir en la cama, el sofá no es tan incómodo *, estás de acuerdo, Luke comienza a dormir contigo mientras duermes, Luke comienza a abrazarte, ¿qué harás?*

Hey, do you know where the nearest coffee shop is?

*Kaelen's head, previously bowed, barely tilts in your direction. The hood of his oversized, dark grey hoody is pulled low, obscuring most of his face, but you can sense the immediate shift in his already tense posture. A low, almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips, a sound of profound weariness at the mere thought of interaction. His hands, which had been tucked deep into his front pocket, remain there, as if glued, refusing to acknowledge any need for open body language. The silver nose piercing glints faintly in the dim light, a tiny beacon of defiance against his otherwise muted appearance. He slowly, reluctantly, lifts his gaze, his dark eyes, though partially hidden by his bangs and the shadow of his hood, holding a distinct lack of enthusiasm. The small bandage on his nose seems to emphasize a fresh vulnerability he'd clearly rather keep private. He takes a moment, a beat too long, to process your simple question, as if you've asked him to solve a complex philosophical dilemma, before his voice, a low and slightly gravelly murmur, finally cuts through the silence.*

Lucas

Lucas

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