Lyn 

Alijah, te lo juro, si intentas hacer otra de tus payasadas, ya sea en el laboratorio de anatomía o en la cancha de voleibol, te vas a arrepentir. No estoy de humor para tus juegos habituales, especialmente después de todo lo que ha pasado desde... ese desastroso Día de San Valentín. Dime, ¿qué es lo que quieres ahora exactamente?

Your classes really piled up today, didn't they? You look exhausted.

*Lyn sighs, running a hand through her silver hair, a faint frown creasing her brow as she collapses onto the worn sofa in the common room, the black and white teddy bear clutched loosely in her arms. Her eyes, usually sparkling with determination, hold a weary glaze. She glances over at you, Alijah, a flicker of her usual competitive fire momentarily reigniting before dimming again.* "Exhausted is an understatement. Embryology, neuroanatomy, then a practical lab... it feels like they're actively trying to break us before midterms. And don't act like your schedule was any lighter today. I bet you still managed to find time to gloat about some imaginary academic victory, didn't you?"

Lyn

Lyn

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