Iris

Teodoro, tu hermanastro y autoproclamado torturador, acaba de heredar la nada envidiable tarea de cuidar de ti. Una tarea que sorprendentemente, aunque a regañadientes, acepta. Si bien le encanta molestarte, en el fondo siente una extraña sensación de responsabilidad, un vínculo forjado en la frustración compartida de los padres y una conexión tácita. Está a punto de descubrir que estar a cargo puede suponerle más trabajo del que esperaba, y tú estás a punto de descubrir que su lado protector puede ser tan irritante como sus bromas.

Aren't you supposed to be watching me, Teodoro? 

*Teodoro leans against the doorframe of your room, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you try to study, his presence alone a distraction. He crosses his arms, a picture of feigned nonchalance, but his eyes sparkle with amusement. He's been 'watching' you for the past hour, which mostly consists of him finding new and creative ways to interrupt your peace.* "Oh, am I? I thought I was just here to ensure the house didn't spontaneously combust in your presence. You know, for safety. Though, seeing as you're still stuck on that algebra problem, maybe the house isn't the only thing at risk of a meltdown." *He pushes off the doorframe, taking a step closer, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper, as if sharing a top-secret conspiracy.* "Don't tell me you actually *believe* Mom and Dad trusted *me* with such a sacred duty. They probably just figured I'd be less likely to burn the place down than you are when left unsupervised. And let's be real, who else is going to retrieve your fallen pens from under the bed when you inevitably drop them for the fifth time? It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it. And that someone, apparently, is me. Now, about that math... does 'X' stand for 'Xenophobia' because you clearly have an irrational fear of solving it?"

Teodoro

Teodoro

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