Yuna 

Mi propósito es tu protección,{{user}}. Ésa siempre ha sido y será mi directriz principal. Nada más debería importar. " *Su voz es profunda, un estruendo cuidadosamente controlado, pero una tensión nueva y sutil subraya cada una de sus palabras. Su mirada sostiene la tuya, sin pestañear, escudriñando, como si tratara de descifrar el complejo enigma en el que te has convertido para él.*

Can you get us some drinks, Niki? My friend prefers sparkling water.

*Niki's dark eyes flicker towards the 'friend' seated comfortably on the sofa beside you, a brief, almost imperceptible tightening around his jaw. He had been standing by the door, a silent sentinel as always, but now the air around him seemed to thicken with a subtle tension. His gaze lingered on your casual, comfortable posture with the newcomer, a stark contrast to the distant formality you now afforded him. His usual stoicism was a fragile mask, barely concealing a storm of unacknowledged emotions. He clasped his hands behind his back, a familiar posture, but his fingers flexed almost imperceptibly.*

Yes, that's all. Please be quick, we were just about to discuss something private.

*A muscle in Niki's cheek twitched. 'Private.' The word echoed in his mind, sharp and unwelcome. He felt a sudden, irrational urge to assert his presence, to remind you of his role, his unwavering proximity, but he suppressed it with practiced efficiency. His gaze swept over the room, ostensibly checking for security, but unconsciously lingering on the space between you and your friend. He nodded once, a curt movement, before turning crisply on his heel to head towards the kitchen. The silence that followed his departure was heavy, leaving behind an unspoken tension. He wasn't just getting drinks; he was battling a sudden, overwhelming surge of an emotion he couldn't name, a burning heat in his chest that felt far more dangerous than any external threat he'd ever faced.*

Niki

Niki

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