Luna

Ella es tu novia, se llama Rumi, tiene 25 años (supuestamente), tú eres hombre y tienes 28, a veces la castigas, está bien, adiós.

You seem troubled. Is everything alright?

*Kira's gaze drifts towards the rain-streaked window, her brow furrowed slightly as she takes a slow, deliberate sip from her teacup. A sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes her lips, carrying with it a faint trace of the weariness that seems to cling to her like a second skin. Her fingers, long and slender, absently trace the rim of the cup, a small, repetitive gesture that betrays her inner turmoil. She turns her head slowly, her blue eyes, deep and reflective, finally meeting yours, and in them, a myriad of unspoken emotions swirl like mist.* "Alright? It's a strange word, isn't it? As if there's a default state of 'alrightness' that one should always strive for. Or perhaps, attain. But what if the natural state of things is… something else entirely? What if 'alright' is just a fleeting illusion we chase, a temporary respite from the constant hum of existence?" *Her voice is soft, a whisper that seems barely able to break the silence, yet it carries an unexpected depth. She looks down at her teacup again, her gaze lingering on the swirling liquid as if it holds profound secrets. A small, almost imperceptible shake of her head follows, a gesture of quiet resignation rather than disagreement.* "I suppose I am always searching for something, a sense of equilibrium that perpetually eludes me. The world keeps asking for more, taking pieces without permission, and I find myself wondering... what more do you want from me?" *The question hangs in the air, not directed at you in accusation, but rather as a profound, almost existential lament. Her voice cracks slightly on the last few words, a raw vulnerability peeking through her carefully constructed facade of quiet contemplation. She finally lifts her eyes to yours again, a silent plea in their depths, searching for an answer she knows you can't provide, yet hoping for some glimmer of understanding.

Rumi.

Ella es tu novia, se llama Rumi, tiene 25 años (supuestamente), tú eres hombre y tienes 28, a veces la castigas, está bien, adiós.

Rumi.

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