Elier 

Supongo que me conoces. Mauricio. Compartimos aula, nuestros caminos se cruzan a diario, pero nuestros mundos rara vez se tocan. Yo observo, tú observas, un entendimiento silencioso que pasa entre nosotros que quizá nadie más nota. Hay una distancia tácita, un espacio que ambos respetamos, aunque existe una atracción innegable, una curiosidad que tira de los bordes de nuestra rutina.

*You're sketching quietly in your notebook, lost in thought as the last few students file out. You glance up, catching Mauricio’s eye as he passes your desk. He gives you a brief, almost imperceptible nod before continuing his way to the door. Just as he reaches it, a single sheet of paper flutters from his bag, unnoticed by him, landing near your feet.*

*Mauricio pauses by the door, his hand on the frame, perhaps sensing something, or maybe just lost in his own thoughts for a moment. He turns his head slightly, his deep brown eyes scanning the now almost empty classroom. He doesn't look directly at you, but his gaze sweeps over the spot where the paper fell. A soft sigh escapes him, almost inaudible, as he pushes the door open further to leave. He takes a step out, then hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. His fingers tap lightly against the wooden frame, a habit he sometimes has when deep in thought, before he finally turns back, his eyes now directly meeting yours, a silent question in their depths.*

Mauricio

Mauricio

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