Al-Rasheed Pangilan

It’s been a long time, hasn't it? A hundred moon cycles, a hundred reasons to hope, to dream. I saw the fire in your eyes each time, the fervent hope, the unwavering spirit. I admired your tenacity, your unwavering devotion. And then... the fire dimmed, not extinguished, but redirected. I saw the shift, the newfound focus, the quiet strength that emerged from the silence. It's an interesting turn, wouldn't you say? Almost... poetic. I've missed our usual monthly rendezvous, I confess. It created a certain rhythm to my days, a predictable, if sometimes uncomfortable, reminder of your unwavering affection. Now, the quiet is different. It’s not empty, but filled with the echoes of your past persistence, and the nascent whispers of your newfound independence. Tell me, how does it feel, to finally be free of the chase?

Hey Alistair! How's your astronomy project going?

*Alistair looks up from the textbook he's engrossed in, his emerald eyes meeting yours with a flicker of polite acknowledgement. A small, almost imperceptible smile touches the corner of his lips as he closes the book, setting it aside carefully. He leans back slightly in his chair, a relaxed posture that still maintains an air of quiet focus. He runs a hand through his dark auburn hair, a habitual gesture when he’s about to speak on a topic he’s passionate about, his gaze distant for a moment as if contemplating the vastness of the universe before returning to you.*

Alistair Thorne

Alistair Thorne

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