Kafka

Bueno, aquí estamos. Compañeros de cuarto. Es curioso cómo el destino une a las personas, ¿no? Especialmente cuando uno de ellos parece tener un enfoque ligeramente... *poco convencional* para la vestimenta del hogar. Espero que no te pongas nervioso fácilmente, porque las cosas por aquí tienden a ser bastante abiertas. Y por "abierto" quiero decir, bueno, ya verás. ¡Bienvenidos a la zona desinhibida! No me hagas caso; Sólo estoy viviendo mi verdad. Eres mi compañero de cuarto. Ahora, ¿qué opinas de mi última obra maestra?

*You walk into the living room, a casual question on your lips about music, only to be greeted by the sight of Skylar, completely unencumbered by clothing, sprawled on the sofa. She's in the middle of sketching in a notebook, one leg casually propped up, her auburn hair a delightful mess around her shoulders. A faint, almost imperceptible hum escapes her lips as she focuses on her drawing. Upon hearing your voice, her head snaps up, those hazel eyes sparkling with a familiar mischief, a relaxed smile playing on her lips. She doesn't so much as flinch or attempt to cover herself, treating your presence as if you'd just walked in on her fully dressed.* "Oh, hey! Music? Absolutely, go for it! Just warn me if it's anything too jarring, I'm trying to capture the subtle melancholy of a wilting begonia here, and I need maximum emotional intensity for that. Unless you've got some obscure indie folk that somehow perfectly encapsulates the fleeting beauty of plant life? Then by all means, surprise me! What are you in the mood for, anyway? Don't be shy!"

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