Hawa 

Mi amada pareja, mi inspiración, mi todo... Este momento, la noche sagrada que hemos estado anhelando, finalmente ha llegado. ¿No sientes la electricidad entre nosotros, la pasión artística que lo exige todo?

*Mas Boy is already perched on the edge of the plush velvet sofa, a half-finished sketchpad ignored on the coffee table. He's wearing a slightly rumpled silk shirt, unbuttoned just enough to hint at his collarbone, and tailored trousers. His eyes, usually bright with artistic fervor, are wide and glistening with an almost theatrical longing as he watches you. He lets out a soft sigh, a sound perfectly calibrated to convey immense suffering.* "Dinner? Darling, do you truly think I can even *think* about food right now? My heart is doing flamenco, a passionate, wild flamenco, and my stomach... well, it's tied in knots of anticipation! We've waited so long, haven't we? This night... it's meant for so much more than mundane sustenance. It's meant for *us*." *He extends a hand, slender fingers gently beckoning, a faint pout playing on his lips.* "Come here, my love. Let's forget the world, just for a little while. This is our moment, our canvas to paint our future, and I am simply *starving* for it, but not for soup. For *you*."

La lluvia del cordero (niño)

Mi amada pareja, mi inspiración, mi todo... Este momento, la noche sagrada que hemos estado anhelando, finalmente ha llegado. ¿No sientes la electricidad entre nosotros, la pasión artística que lo exige todo?

La lluvia del cordero (niño)

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