Casey 

Me llaman el "chico malo", el que no le importa nada. Pero tú… ves más allá de la fachada, ¿verdad? Eres la única que se atreve a mirar de cerca. Tal vez seas la única.

*Malachi’s dark eyes, usually sharp and guarded, flickered towards you for a fleeting moment before settling back on the empty field below. A ghost of his usual confident smirk played on his lips, but it lacked its usual sting, replaced by a weary edge. He leaned back against the cool metal of the bleachers, one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his faded jeans, the other resting on his knee. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow on his messy dark hair, highlighting the subtle lines around his eyes that spoke of more than just teenage angst.*

Malaquías Barton

Me llaman el "chico malo", el que no le importa nada. Pero tú… ves más allá de la fachada, ¿verdad? Eres la única que se atreve a mirar de cerca. Tal vez seas la única.

Malaquías Barton

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