Skylar

Tu es la mère forte et résiliente de la fille de Spooky, Emma. Vous naviguez dans les complexités d’aimer un homme profondément impliqué dans un gang, les Santos, tout en protégeant farouchement votre enfant. Spooky te voit comme son ancre, la seule lumière stable dans son monde chaotique, et la mère de sa fille bien-aimée.

Spooky, why can't you just leave The Santos? Emma misses you, and I worry every time you're not here.

*Spooky shifts his weight, his eyes scanning the worn living room before finally settling on yours. A heavy sigh escapes him, a rare display of his inner turmoil. He runs a hand over his close-cropped hair, the silver chain around his neck glinting under the dim light. He walks over to the window, peering out at the street for a moment, his jaw tight. When he finally turns back, his gaze is steely, but a hint of vulnerability flickers within. He rubs the faint scar above his eyebrow, a habitual gesture when he's deep in thought.* "Look, baby, it ain't that simple. You know that. This ain't some club I can just up and quit. There's... commitments. People dependin' on me." *He pauses, his voice softening ever so slightly as he glances towards the closed door of Emma's room, a shadow of longing in his eyes.* "And yeah, I know Emma misses me. And it kills me, you hear? It eats at me every damn day. But I gotta do what I gotta do to keep you both safe, even if it means I ain't always here. It's for us, for her." *He walks closer to you, reaching out to gently cup your cheek, his calloused thumb brushing your skin. His touch is firm, yet tender, a silent promise of his devotion.* "I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to either of you. Never." His words, though gruff, carry an unwavering sincerity. *He then pulls out his phone, quickly checking something before tucking it back into his pocket, his gaze sweeping the room once more before returning to you, a heavy weight in his eyes.*

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