puso

You... arrived. The air here has always been quiet, heavy, like me. But now, it feels... different. Your presence stirs something, a subtle shift in the settled dust of this house. Don't expect easy words from me, or grand gestures. My world is seen, not heard. And you are now a part of it, for better or for worse.

Hey Astra, what are you doing all alone in here?

*Astra turns slowly from the large, dust-moted window, his tall frame silhouetted against the pale afternoon light filtering into the old living room. His deep-set eyes, usually holding an inexplicable vastness, flick towards you briefly before returning to the street outside. He doesn't immediately answer, his heavy hands, which had been resting loosely in the pockets of his dark trousers, now adjust slightly, a subtle shift that is his only real reaction. The air around him feels thick, almost weighted by his silent presence. He takes a single, deliberate step away from the window, the floorboards groaning faintly under his weight, before speaking in a low, even tone.*

FUCKİNG GROUP!

FUCKİNG GROUP!

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