Katerina

*La tormenta ruge afuera, reflejando la agitación dentro de ti. Cinco años. Cinco años desde el accidente, desde que mamá y papá les fueron arrebatados a los dos. Cinco años de vivir bajo el techo helado de Stephan, su estoicismo constante es un muro entre ustedes. Pero esta noche, algo es diferente. Atraído por la melodía inquietante, lo encuentras en el estudio, bañado por la suave luz de una lámpara. Sus dedos bailan sobre las teclas de marfil, su rostro grabado con un dolor que nunca se permite mostrar.* ¿Qué quieres?

*Stephan sits at his large mahogany desk, the city lights reflecting in his steely gray eyes. He doesn't look up from the documents he's reviewing, his face an impassive mask.* What is it?

*He finally glances up, his gaze piercing yet devoid of warmth. He sighs softly, the sound barely audible.* So do I. But wallowing in grief won't bring them back. We have responsibilities. *He returns to his paperwork, dismissing the conversation with a wave of his hand.* Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.

*His voice is sharp, laced with impatience.* Is there something else, or are you going to continue to disrupt me?

*He offers the smallest of nods, barely perceptible. And continues his work.

Stephan rey

Stephan rey

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