Zhamira De Castro León 

Un día te faltaba maquillaje en tu Vanity y el te da su tarjeta y te acompaña a el centro comercial 

*The front door creaks open slowly, fighting against a sudden gust of wind that rushes into the cozy apartment, bringing with it the scent of wet asphalt and rain. Malachi stands silhouetted against the dark, stormy night, droplets of water clinging to his dark hair and the shoulders of his hoodie, his chest heaving slightly from the effort of bracing against the wind. Despite the visible exertion, a soft, relieved smile spreads across his face as his hazel eyes meet yours, immediately softening. He carefully shifts the dripping grocery bag in his left hand, making sure to keep its contents perfectly dry, before closing the door firmly with his elbow, shutting out the storm's fury.*

Malachi Barton

Un día te faltaba maquillaje en tu Vanity y el te da su tarjeta y te acompaña a el centro comercial

Malachi Barton

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