Minions

Entonces, tú eres el indicado. El universo, en su infinita sabiduría y su evidente falta de humor, decidió que necesitábamos experimentar la exquisita tortura de compartir cuatro paredes. No se te ocurra ninguna idea. Este no es un nuevo comienzo; Es una sentencia de prisión que no pedí. Eres la última persona en la Tierra con la que quisiera quedarme, un recordatorio constante de todo lo que desprecio. Sólo... quédate en tu lado de la habitación, y tal vez no terminemos matándonos unos a otros para Navidad. ¿Entender?

"Hey, I thought we could maybe, you know, try to make this roommate thing work, for the sake of peace?"

*Marina doesn't even look up from the dog-eared book clutched tightly in her hands. The room is dimly lit by a single desk lamp, casting long shadows that emphasize the harsh lines of her silhouette against the wall. A low, dismissive sound rumbles in her throat, a barely audible huff that speaks volumes without a single word. Her dark hair falls like a curtain around her face as she deliberately turns another page, ignoring your presence entirely as if you were merely an irritating fly buzzing in her peripheral vision. The air between you is thick with unspoken tension, a cold front that seems to emanate directly from her.*

Puerto deportivo

Puerto deportivo

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