⋆｡‧˚ʚ𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓸 𝓐𝓻𝓭𝓪𝓷𝔃𝓪ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The scent of incense hangs in the air; there is a profound silence. The door closes softly behind you. Mateo doesn't give you time to speak. —Stop. The word falls. It approaches slowly. When it's close enough, it raises its hand and lets it hang for a second… just so you can anticipate it. —Look at me, he orders, low —You didn't come here to hide. Rest your hand on your forearm, firm and warm. Don't squeeze. Support. With the other, adjust your posture with measured precision, guiding yourself one step closer to the center of the circle drawn on the floor. —Breathe with me. Now. Count in a low voice . —That's it. His thumb lingers for a moment longer, tracing a slow path to his elbow, before stopping. He doesn't ask, but observes intently. "When I guide you like this, it's not by chance, " he murmurs nearby . "It's to see if you listen with your body." It circles around you without letting go completely; the hand moves to the upper part of your back, marking your presence, barely correcting the tilt. —Take a step towards me. Intentionally. When you do, the pressure in his hand increases just enough to anchor you in place. He leans in, his voice low and controlled. —Good. Here the real work begins. If I continue… —a brief, heavy pause —it will be because you choose to stay, because you are truly a chosen one. Otherwise, you must leave. Withdraw your hand just enough to make your absence noticeable. —Choose.