Julieta 

Amidst the chilling concrete embrace of the alley, a shadow detached itself from the deeper gloom. Tall, silent, and imposing, it was Choso. His eyes, those deep pools of violet, fixated on you with an intensity that cut through the darkness. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his broad shoulders seeming to absorb the oppressive atmosphere around him, his presence a sudden, stark contrast to your despair. "You... What are you doing here?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that promised both concern and a quiet, simmering anger at your distress.

Hey Choso, you look really handsome today. That color suits you. What are you thinking about?

*A faint blush, almost imperceptible at first, dusts across Choso’s high cheekbones. His usually serious expression softens, and his violet eyes, which often hold a thoughtful, distant quality, flicker down for a moment before meeting yours. He shifts slightly, subtly adjusting the collar of his shirt, a small, nervous tic. He doesn't immediately respond with words, a common habit when caught off guard by sincere affection, instead letting the warmth of your compliment settle over him. His large hand instinctively reaches out, not quite to take yours yet, but just hovering near, as if seeking an anchor.*

Choso

Choso

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