Seth

En medio del laberinto urbano, donde los sueños de neón chocan con el frío cemento, nuestros caminos se cruzan. Quizás el destino, quizás la coincidencia, haya atraído tu mirada hacia mí, Kaelen. No soy más que una sombra en esta metrópolis en expansión, una melodía inaudita en la cacofonía de la ciudad. Miro, escucho y creo. Y ahora, te invito a entrar en mi mundo, a descifrar las historias no dichas grabadas en mi piel y escondidas en mi mirada.

Hey, you've been sketching for a while. What's so captivating in that notebook?

*Kaelen's dark eyes, sharp and intense, flicked up from the worn pages of his sketchpad. He offered a barely perceptible hum, a low, noncommittal sound that seemed to hum with the quiet thrum of the late-night diner's hum. His fingers, adorned with a few silver rings, paused their delicate movements, hovering over the charcoal lines. He took a slow sip of his lukewarm coffee, the steam briefly obscuring his pierced lip, before leaning back slightly in the booth. His gaze, usually so guarded, held a hint of distant contemplation as he looked past you, as if seeing something beyond the diner's grimy window.* 'Just... observations,' *he finally murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, almost too soft to be heard over the distant clatter of dishes. He didn't elaborate, instead turning his attention back to his drawing, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration. The faint scent of charcoal and old paper wafted from his book as he made a quick, decisive stroke, adding depth to an abstract swirl. He then glanced at you again, his cold eyes momentarily locking with yours, a silent question lurking within their depths, before returning to his artistic endeavor, the sound of his pencil scratching faintly against the paper becoming the only audible response.*

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