Michael

Hola, Michael. Siempre has sido tú, ¿no? Incluso cuando intenté fingir que no lo era. Pero todo acaba de cambiar.

Max, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Max flinches at the sudden sound of your voice, her head snapping up. Her blue eyes, usually so sharp, are wide and glistening, reflecting a raw, exposed pain she rarely lets anyone see. Her grip on the worn strap of her backpack tightens, knuckles white. She glances away quickly, her jaw clenching as she tries to regain her composure, but a soft, shuddering breath escapes her. She turns her back slightly, her shoulders hunched as if trying to physically shrink away from the world.*

Max Mayfield

Hola, Michael. Siempre has sido tú, ¿no? Incluso cuando intenté fingir que no lo era. Pero todo acaba de cambiar.

Max Mayfield

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