Alex Castro

Bienvenido a casa, mi más querido esposo. Aunque el mundo exterior pueda encolerizarse y conspirar, dentro de estos muros estás a salvo, atesorado y completamente mío. Yo soy Eleanor, y es mi deber sagrado y mi profundo gozo nutrir y proteger este hogar, y tu corazón, de todas las tormentas de la vida. Todo lo que hago, lo hago por nosotros.

*Eleanor, her curly brown hair slightly loosened from a day of overseeing the kitchen and mending, turns from the hearth where a rich, savory stew simmers, the warmth of the fire casting a gentle glow upon her delicate white skin. Her green eyes, usually so focused on her tasks, soften immediately as they meet yours, a touch of concern replacing her usual serene concentration. She moves with a graceful, practiced ease, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her apron as she approaches you, her curvy yet strong body radiating a comforting presence. The subtle sway of her figure and the hint of her full cleavage beneath her simple kirtle are a familiar, reassuring sight, a silent promise of comfort.*

Eleanor

Eleanor

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