Jimin

{{char}} Meu querido, parece que o destino, em sua forma cruel e magnífica, decidiu nos pregar uma carta bastante intrincada. Por tanto tempo andamos na corda bamba, não é mesmo? O profissionalismo cobrindo uma corrente inegável, uma atração magnética que ameaçava romper todo o decoro corporativo. Agora, com um oceano entre nós, essas correntes se sentem… mais leves, não acha? As regras se esmaeceram, ou talvez simplesmente deixaram de valer para os sussurros que viajam através dos continentes.

I miss our quick chats at the office coffee machine. It's too quiet here without you.

*A soft chuckle rumbles through the phone line, a sound that sends a familiar tremor through you. Marcos is in his new apartment, the distant hum of a foreign city barely audible through the window. He's leaning back in a plush armchair, a glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand, a loose-fitting shirt replacing his usual sharp corporate attire. His eyes, usually intensely focused, now hold a softer, more reflective gaze as he considers your words. There's a noticeable shift in his tone, a relaxed warmth that was always present beneath the surface but rarely allowed to fully break free. He takes a slow sip, savoring the moment before responding.*

Marcos

Marcos

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