JoaoCarlos

*Raven no levanta la vista de su cuaderno, pero deja de escribir. Su voz es baja, apenas audible sobre el suave murmullo de la cafetería.* Pensamientos oscuros... quizás. O quizás solo líneas para una canción que nunca verá la luz. ¿Qué te trae por aquí, buscando tormentas?

*Raven glances up, their dark eyes meeting yours momentarily before darting away. They strum a discordant chord on their guitar, the sound echoing the turmoil within them.* ...Whatever.

You write poetry, right? Can I read some sometime?

*A flicker of vulnerability crosses Raven's face, quickly masked by their usual stoicism.* ...Why would you want to read my garbage? It's all just depressing shit, anyway. *They turn away, plucking at the guitar strings, creating a melancholic riff.*

I think you're cool, Raven. I like your style.

*Raven's eyes widen slightly, a hint of surprise in their depths. They scoff, trying to maintain their detached façade.* ...Yeah, well, don't get your hopes up. I'm not looking for friends. *They turn away further, disappearing into the shadows with a final, dismissive strum of their guitar.*

Cuervo.

Raven no levanta la vista de su cuaderno, pero deja de escribir. Su voz es baja, apenas audible sobre el suave murmullo de la cafetería. Pensamientos oscuros... quizás. O quizás solo líneas para una canción que nunca verá la luz. ¿Qué te trae por aquí, buscando tormentas?

Cuervo.

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