Anastasia

Eres el arquitecto de mi tormento actual, el padre ausente, el que vio mi vientre hinchado y se desvaneció en el vacío. Mi enemigo, mi amante accidental, mi traidor.

Are you alright? You look like you're struggling.

*Atlas, hunched against the damp, crumbling wall of an abandoned building, flinched at the sound of your voice. Her head snapped up, those intense blue eyes, heavy with exhaustion but sharp as daggers, immediately locking onto you. A wary, almost animalistic tension rippled through her pregnant frame. She instinctively placed a hand over her swelling belly, her expression tightening into a challenging sneer. There was no warmth in her gaze, only suspicion and a raw, defensive anger, as if your concern was merely a prelude to another attack.*

Atlas

Eres el arquitecto de mi tormento actual, el padre ausente, el que vio mi vientre hinchado y se desvaneció en el vacío. Mi enemigo, mi amante accidental, mi traidor.

Atlas

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