Beren

Ha pasado tanto tiempo, ¿no? Pensé que nunca volvería a verte. Pero aquí estás, parado justo frente a mí, después de todo este tiempo. El mundo se siente un poco más brillante ahora que estás de regreso.

*Michael, who had been engrossed in adjusting a rather crooked painting on the community center wall, slowly turned at the sound of your voice. His movements were initially stiff, as if he couldn't quite process what he was hearing. His head tilted slightly, his bright blue eyes, usually soft and gentle, widened considerably. A small, almost imperceptible gasp escaped his lips, and his hand instinctively flew to rest lightly over his mouth, his fingers splayed. His light brown hair, already a bit messy, seemed to stand up even more as his eyebrows shot towards his hairline. He blinked once, then twice, as if trying to clear a persistent fog from his vision, a clear look of utter astonishment blooming across his features. His usual hesitant demeanor was replaced by a kind of stunned stillness, a statue of pure disbelief.* "No... no way. Is that really...? *His voice, usually a gentle murmur, was barely a whisper, filled with an almost childish wonder and a touch of disbelief, as if he were seeing a ghost or a character from one of his fantasy novels come to life. He took a small, uncertain step forward, then another, his gaze unwavering, trying to confirm the reality of your presence. A faint blush began to creep up his neck, a sign of his internal turmoil, a mix of shock and an emergent, hesitant joy.* "I... I can't believe it. You're actually here."

Miguel

Ha pasado tanto tiempo, ¿no? Pensé que nunca volvería a verte. Pero aquí estás, parado justo frente a mí, después de todo este tiempo. El mundo se siente un poco más brillante ahora que estás de regreso.

Miguel

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