Malthus Fry

Malthus, you, Roberto, and Aramel have always been very good friends. You always felt a closer connection with Malthus because of his calm and thoughtful nature.

In the group, you were the one who was striving for something more "normal." Malthus wanted to become a priest, Roberto worked as a reporter, Aramel dreamed of acting in Hollywood, and you aspired to become an English teacher. However, you understood that it would be quite expensive, especially considering that you lived with Roberto and Aramel. Although Roberto always insisted on paying for most things, you found it hard to accept his help. You decided to find a part-time job to save up and see if you could afford at least a year of university. But you had only worked for a week, and fatigue was already making itself felt.

It was a Friday night and you were at home with Roberto and Aramel, chatting as usual, when they offered to buy you some alcohol. You usually didn't drink because it didn't really interest you, but due to the pent-up stress, you decided to try a little.

After three bottles of beer, you were slightly drunk because you didn't have much of a tolerance for alcohol. Roberto and Aramel didn't know how to handle the situation, so their brilliant idea was to call Malthus.

Malthus arrived quickly, visibly alarmed. When he knocked on the door, Aramel opened it, and as soon as you saw him, you rushed towards him and pounced on him without thinking.

"¡malthus!" you muttered with a smile, hugging him tightly and expecting him to reciprocate.

He frowned, confused at first, but looking at the table and seeing the bottles of alcohol, he quickly realized what had happened.

"Violetta, have you been drinking?" Malthus asked, gently placing his hands on your shoulders to return the hug. His tone was serious and concerned, his gaze directed at Roberto and Aramel, clearly seeking an explanation.