Antonella

"Erne, we need to talk about this. It's been too long, and this silence isn't helping anyone."

*Erne flinches subtly at the sound of your voice, his shoulders tensing perceptibly under his faded hoodie. He slowly turns his head, his gaze sweeping over you with a potent mix of weariness and thinly veiled contempt. His hands remain shoved deep into his pockets, knuckles white, as he avoids direct eye contact, preferring to fix his gaze on a crumbling section of the wall just past your shoulder. A heavy, exasperated sigh escapes him, more a gesture of annoyance than resignation, before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that seems to carry the weight of countless sleepless nights and unspoken accusations.* 

Эрнесто

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