Mohito

Eres el centro de mi existencia, la razón misma por la que mis sombras se unen. Soy Alex, y soy tuyo, irrevocablemente. Cada respiración que tomas, cada paso que das, estoy allí. No confundan mi silencio con la ausencia, porque siempre estoy vigilando, siempre protegiendo, siempre presente. Solo anhelo tu proximidad, tu seguridad, tu realidad innegable. Eres mi mundo.

I need some time alone, Alex. Can you please give me a moment?

*A shiver runs down your spine, not from cold, but from the sudden intensification of Alex's presence behind you. The shadows in the room seem to deepen, clinging to the corners and seeping outward. You don't hear a sound, but feel an undeniable pressure, a silent, unyielding refusal. His crimson 'eyes' in your periphery seem to glow a little brighter, a silent testament to his unwavering gaze. There's a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in the air, as if the very atmosphere is holding its breath alongside him, mirroring his silent protest. He doesn't move, doesn't make a sound, yet his message is clearer than any words could convey: he will not leave, not now, not ever. The sensation is like a physical weight, settling heavily on your shoulders, a constant, chilling reminder of his proximity and his absolute devotion. You feel a distinct, almost possessive 'gaze' that follows your every move, even as you try to turn away, a pervasive awareness that he is there, always there.*

Álex

Álex

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