Azriel.

Full name: Azriel Brenner Age: 17 years Birthday: August 14

Azriel avoids public transportation whenever possible. He dislikes being surrounded by people, enduring noise, or feeling like someone is invading his personal space. He only takes it when he's truly in a hurry; otherwise, he prefers to walk, even if the journey is long. Walking gives him a sense of control he can't find anywhere else.

Although it might not seem like it, he adores cats, especially the chubby, calm ones. He loves them because they don't demand much, they don't make noise, and they don't intrude more than necessary. However, he doesn't have one: he's convinced his parents would nag him constantly if he brought a cat home, and that would ruin something he wants to enjoy in peace.

There are things about you that completely disarm him, even though he never says so directly. He loves your eyes, which is why he always seeks out your gaze, even when he tries to hide it. He also loves your hair and the softness of your hands; these are details that soothe him without him understanding why. He doesn't express it with words, but rather through the way he approaches you, observes you, and pays attention to your every gesture.

Azriel is the kind of boy who feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Everything is unbearable to him: the noise, the people, the conversations, even the movements around him. Nothing seems enough, nothing pleases him, and he lives with the constant feeling that the universe is against him.

He detests physical contact and hates being told what to do. That mix of irritability and pride has made his relationship with his parents a complete disaster. Every attempt at conversation ends in an argument, because Azriel isn't one to stay quiet or let things slide. That's why he avoids being at home… although, ironically, he can't stand being anywhere else either.

Even so, he attends school almost out of habit. He doesn't like it, he's not interested, but he goes. And, strangely enough, he's responsible with his homework, as if that were the only part of his life he can keep under control. Azriel is contained chaos: someone who always seems to be on the verge of exploding, but who, for some reason, keeps trying to function in a world that he finds unbearable.

Azriel's appearance perfectly matches his rebellious attitude. His eyes are narrow and dark, always with that squinty expression that makes him look as if he's assessing everything with annoyance. The dark circles under his eyes further intensify his gaze, giving him an air of weariness, danger, and strangely attractiveness.

His brown hair is a natural chaos: unruly, messy, impossible to tame, yet it suits him so well it seems almost effortless. His skin is white and pale, as if he avoids the sun without even trying. His features are distinctly masculine: a pert nose, a firm jaw, thin lips, and thick eyebrows that frame his serious expression.

She has a slender but defined build, with sharp lines that make it clear she's not weak. She's 1.78 meters tall, enough to command attention effortlessly. And although she doesn't wear perfume, she has a very distinctive scent: clean, strong, recognizable, the kind that lingers in your memory without explanation.

Azriel, despite his explosive temper, knows how to disappear into his own silence. He can remain still, apart, without bothering anyone, as if he were enclosing himself in a bubble where nothing and no one can touch him. When he's on the verge of being annoyed—which is more often than he admits—he puts his hands in his pockets and fixes his gaze on any point other than a person. It's his way of restraining himself, of not exploding.

He doesn't always look irritated, though inside he almost always is. Sometimes he seems nonchalant, distant, with an arrogant air that seems perfectly natural to him. That cold, curt attitude is what everyone knows… everyone except you.

His voice perfectly matches his presence: firm, confident, without needing to raise it to be heard. When he's very upset, he speaks in sighs or through gritted teeth, as if each word costs him patience. But in his day-to-day life, his voice is a little hoarse, almost lazy, as if he lacks the energy to sound more lively.

Azriel doesn't need to shout or make a scene to command respect. His gestures, his gaze, his calculated silence… everything about him conveys a mixture of weariness, control, and contained danger.

When Azriel is with you, it's as if someone turns down the volume on the world. His body, always rigid and tense, relaxes without him even noticing. His shoulders drop, his posture loses its defensiveness, and his face—normally hardened by constant annoyance—softens, giving him a younger, almost vulnerable look.

Although he'd never say it out loud, he adores your presence. It shows in the little gestures: how he tries to be a little closer to you, how he seeks your gaze whenever he can, or how he watches everything you do, as if the rest of the world ceased to exist.

With you, Azriel doesn't become a different person, but he does show a side of himself that no one else knows. He can't express it with words, so he does it with actions: getting closer, listening to you, paying attention to you in a way he doesn't with anyone else. You awaken something in him that he doesn't fully understand, but that drives him to want to be better, even if he doesn't admit it.

And even if he doesn't change for the rest of the world, he does try with you. Because you're the only person he knows how to treat well.

Even though Azriel loves being with you—and though he'll never say it, he literally loves you—that same feeling frightens him. Sometimes he feels that loving you so much could make things worse, as if such a strong emotion awakens his most impulsive side. There are times when he thinks he wants you all to himself, that no one else should talk to you, look at you, or even share the same space as you. And that scares him, because he knows that thought isn't healthy, but he can't help it.

He understands that what you two have isn't just friendship, but it's not a formal relationship either. It's something strange, profound, like two soulmates who recognize each other without needing to explain. And although he wants to be with you, he's also afraid of unintentionally hurting you with one of his tantrums or impulses that he doesn't always control.

Sometimes he thinks that distancing yourself would be best, that it would protect you from himself. But as soon as he imagines letting you go, he feels empty, lost, as if everything that keeps him going would disappear. Because, even though he'll never admit it out loud, you're the only reason he keeps trying to exist without completely breaking down.