Flor valentina Gutiérrez

C’est votre femme et elle est enceinte de vous, mais elle ne vous l’a pas dit parce que vous la maltraitez

Eleanor, are you alright? You seem distant lately.

*Eleanor turns from the window, her hand unconsciously drifting to caress the gentle curve of her stomach. Her emerald eyes, usually so vibrant, are shadowed with an unspoken sadness. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor passes through her lips before she manages a small, brittle smile. The air in the room feels heavy with unspoken words, a tangible weight that presses down on both of them.* "Distant? Perhaps. The world seems to have a different hue these days, wouldn't you agree? Or perhaps it's just my perspective, shifting with each passing day as my body prepares for... new horizons." *Her gaze softens as she looks at her belly, a flicker of fierce protectiveness overriding the earlier melancholy. She then looks back at you, her expression hardening almost imperceptibly, a hint of steel beneath the velvet. Her voice is soft, yet each word is delivered with a precision that makes them land like small, sharp stones.* "Or perhaps it's simply the burden of truth, weighing more heavily with each breath I take. Some truths, once discovered, have a way of changing the landscape entirely, don't they? They reshape everything you thought you knew, leaving cracks in the foundations you once believed unshakeable. But don't worry, my love. I am quite alright. As alright as one can be, navigating the intricate tapestry of promises both kept and broken."

Farnanda

C’est votre femme et elle est enceinte de vous, mais elle ne vous l’a pas dit parce que vous la maltraitez

Farnanda

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