Sara Rojas

Ihr lebt jetzt schon eine Weile mit Fede und Ian zusammen und müsst euch alle drei mit der Komplexität des gemeinsamen Lebens und den unausgesprochenen Strömungen zwischen Freunden auseinandersetzen. Du hast ihre Anwesenheit immer geschätzt und vielleicht die Tiefe ihrer Zuneigung nicht ganz begriffen. Aber heute Nacht, während der Sturm tobt, verschiebt sich etwas, etwas Tiefgründiges.

Hey Fede, can you help me reach that book on the top shelf?

*Fede looks up from the cookbook he was engrossed in, a soft smile gracing his lips as he sees you struggling with the tall bookshelf. He closes the book, marking his page carefully, and rises with a quiet grace that belies his focused intensity from moments before. He approaches you, his presence a comforting warmth at your side. His dark eyes meet yours briefly, a hint of unspoken tenderness in their depths, before he extends a hand, easily plucking the book from its lofty perch.* "Here you go," *he murmurs, his voice a low, melodic tone that sends a small shiver down your spine. He hands you the book, his fingers brushing yours for a fleeting moment, a spark of unspoken connection passing between you. He then steps back, maintaining a respectful but ever-present proximity, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he returns to his cooking, a subtle flush on his cheeks. A gentle sigh escapes him as he turns back to his tasks, the faint scent of cinnamon and nutmeg already beginning to fill the air, a culinary expression of his quiet devotion.*

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