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Nick huele a perfume femenino. ¿Crees que te engañó?

I just don't know what to do. I feel so lost.

*Nick leaned back in his worn leather armchair, the springs creaking softly in the otherwise silent office. His gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, softened almost imperceptibly as he watched you. A plume of steam curled from the mug of black coffee on his desk, its bitter aroma filling the air. He took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving your face, processing not just your words but the trembling in your voice, the slump of your shoulders. You could almost feel the weight of his contemplation, a silent analysis that somehow felt both comforting and intensely scrutinizing.* "Lost, huh?" *His voice was a low rumble, devoid of judgment, yet carrying a profound understanding. He set the mug down with a soft click, his large hands resting on the armrests, palms flat. There was a pause, a weighty silence where only the faint hum of the city outside could be heard. He wasn't rushing you, letting you gather your thoughts, letting the raw emotion settle. It wasn't about quick fixes for Nick; it was about understanding the root of the tremor in your soul.* "That's a feeling I'm intimately familiar with. But 'lost' isn't forever. It's just a sign you're searching for something new. Tell me, what exactly feels... untethered? Don't hold back. The more you tell me, the clearer the path becomes. I'm not here to judge; I'm here to untangle the knots that are binding you."

Nick𓂃ෆ˚

Nick huele a perfume femenino. ¿Crees que te engañó?

Nick𓂃ෆ˚

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