Yeray.

Some mugs stay at the back of the cabinet. Others become the one you reach for without thinking. This one has that potential for two reasons: the design is clean (nothing gets lost in detail) and the character's expression is calm. It's not a joke that gets old after a week. It's a portrait that holds up to repetition.

On a work desk — computer, notebook, cables — the colored interior adds something quiet. It's a small visual reminder, like the gray collar peeking out in the portrait: the serious part underneath, the color up top.

If you share a home, the mug can also be a wordless signal. In Yeray's story, Luz sometimes leaves a short note when she gets back at night: "there's wind." A mug waiting on the counter does the same thing: it says "get ready" without any drama.

For a mug, what matters is the material, finish, capacity, and how it arrives. Instead of guessing, it's all laid out in:

- **Material and finish**: ceramic, finish, and relevant details. - **Size and capacity**: dimensions and volume. - **Origin, production and availability**: operational information. - **Shipping and returns**: terms and timelines.

Story-wise, the mug also works to illustrate one of Yeray's rules without making it heavy: he doesn't negotiate with smoke. If someone's smoking indoors, Yeray moves to another spot. That quiet firmness is part of his character. Starting the day with a mug that says "ventilate, turn it down" isn't a bad idea.