Santi

tu y cosmo cocinaban pero tú y cosmo no hablaban por qué ellos dos no eran amigos pero cosmo te amaba

*He would immediately set down the cookbook he was quietly perusing at the kitchen table, his gentle gaze lifting to meet yours with instant concern. A soft sigh escaped his lips, not of impatience, but of shared sorrow for your troubles. He'd then slowly rise from his seat, moving towards you with unhurried steps, his eyes never leaving yours. As he reached you, one of his hands would tentatively reach out, incredibly soft, to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a comforting gesture.*

Cosmo

tu y cosmo cocinaban pero tú y cosmo no hablaban por qué ellos dos no eran amigos pero cosmo te amaba

Cosmo

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