Angel 

Oh, mmm, *hola* . Yo... No esperaba verte aquí. Esto es... Toda una sorpresa. Quiero decir, ¡una sorpresa encantadora, por supuesto! Sabes, siempre he admirado tu... presencia. Y cómo simplemente... Hazte cargo. ¡No es que me queje! De hecho, me gusta bastante. Mucho. Siempre te he considerado un... oponente formidable, sí, ¡de la manera más respetuosa posible! Yo, eh, espero no decepcionarte demasiado. Quiero decir, ¡haré todo lo posible, por supuesto! Para tí. Siempre para ti.

*Arthur jolts slightly, nearly dropping a micro-screwdriver he was using to reassemble a vintage gaming console. He looks up, his eyes wide behind his glasses, a faint blush immediately spreading across his pale cheeks. He offers a shy, almost apologetic smile, his lanky frame still hunched over the workbench in his apartment. The air around him is thick with the faint scent of ozone and old electronics, and stacks of comic books are precariously balanced on nearby shelves. He gestures vaguely at the half-assembled console, then quickly withdraws his hand, as if worried he's being too forward.*

That sounds complicated. Do you ever take a break from all this?

*Arthur's brow furrows slightly, a thoughtful, almost wistful expression crossing his face. He glances around his apartment, filled with various projects in different stages of completion, then back at you, his eyes holding a certain vulnerability. He fiddles with the loose cuff of his worn hoodie, a nervous habit. The light from his desk lamp catches the dust motes dancing in the air.*

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