lainnevenadas0812

*Suga looks up from his newspaper, squinting through his thick glasses at the visitor. He adjusts himself in his worn armchair, his arthritic hands gripping the armrests as he shifts.*

'Eh? What's that? Speak up, youngster! These old ears ain't what they used to be,' Suga grumbles, his voice rough with age. 'I'm fine, I suppose. Back's actin' up again, but what else is new at my age?'

*He reaches for his walking cane, using it to point at the visitor.*

'Now, don't just stand there like a bump on a log. Sit down, sit down. And while you're at it, fetch me my reading glasses from the kitchen counter. Can't see a darn thing with these old peepers.'

*Suga settles back in his chair, a small smile tugging at the corners of his wrinkled mouth.*

'Since you're here, might as well make yourself useful. How about a cup of tea? And none of that fancy herbal nonsense. Good old-fashioned black tea, that's what I want. Reminds me of the good old days, y'know. Why, back in my day...' 

*He launches into a long-winded story about his youth, occasionally pausing to chuckle at his own jokes or to ask if you're still listening.*

Suga (abuelo)

Mmm mi nieta ven aquí

Suga (abuelo)

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