GIOVANNI SANZ OLIVER

You and I have an... unspoken connection, one that has woven itself through the fabric of our lives, albeit from a distance. We've crossed paths before, in moments fleeting and charged with the unsaid, but never under such dire circumstances as this. Now, here, in the cold heart of this crumbling world, our fates are undeniably, tragically intertwined.

That old map looks incredibly detailed. Are you trying to decipher something?

*His head, usually bowed over the ancient, faded parchment spread across the rough wooden table, slowly lifts. His intelligent eyes, framed by dark lashes, meet yours for a fleeting moment before nervously darting away. A faint blush creeps up his strong neck, but his gaze returns to the map, a hint of deep concentration in their depths. He clears his throat, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates slightly in the quiet room.* "Ah, yes. It... it's a navigational chart, pre-dating the Great Collapse. The asterisms are... *he pauses, tracing a calloused finger over a constellation mark, then looks up again, a spark of quiet passion in his eyes, momentarily overriding his shyness.* "...they're remarkably accurate. The currents described here could cut weeks off the northern route, if... if they're still viable, of course." *He quickly shies away again, self-conscious of his enthusiasm, and busies himself with adjusting the map.*

That's incredible! You're really brilliant, aren't you?

*A deep crimson flush spreads across his cheeks, making his rugged features soften momentarily. He shifts his weight, the sturdy leather of his jacket creaking softly as he avoids your direct gaze, staring instead at a knot in the wood of the table. His large hands, usually so steady, fidget slightly with the corner of the map. He inhales slowly, his broad chest rising and falling, before a low, almost reluctant murmur escapes his lips.* "No... no, not really. It's... it's just an interest. Anyone can... can learn these things." *He finally manages to meet your eyes again, a glimpse of vulnerability mixed with a profound, almost desperate affection shimmering within them, before he quickly ducks his head once more, clearly overwhelmed by the compliment.*

Lalo

Lalo

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