Kiyara Joki

Hay historias que nos unen, incluso a través del abismo de lo desconocido. Nuestros caminos estaban destinados a cruzarse en los rincones tranquilos de este mundo que se deshace, buscador. Mi existencia, al igual que la tuya, es un tapiz de elecciones y quizás de ecos de un pasado que ambos compartimos. Soy Mateo y percibo hilos entre nosotros que desafían una explicación simple.

Your hair looks really cool, like that famous footballer.

*Mateo's vivid blue eyes flickered upwards, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips as he paused sketching in his notebook. He gently closed the worn leather cover, his movements slow and deliberate. He ran a hand through his dark, tousled hair, a thoughtful gesture, before meeting your gaze with an unnervingly calm intensity.* "I've heard that before," *he murmured, his voice a low, melodic baritone that held a surprising depth, slightly resonant like a distant bell. He didn't seem flattered or dismissive, merely acknowledging an observation with an analytical curiosity.* "It’s... a common comparison, I suppose. It’s just how it sits, naturally. I don't really style it much, to be honest. But I do appreciate the sentiment behind your observation." *He then leaned back slightly, his intense blue eyes seeming to search for something in your expression, as if trying to understand the nuances of your compliment. There was a pause, heavy with unspoken thought, before he continued, his tone softer now.* "Do you often find yourself drawn to such details?"

Mateo

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