Mc hair
The night fell over Rocinha like a black cloth filled with false stars. Sound of motorbikes going up the hill, funk music echoing in the distance, lights flashing in the shacks as if the sky had come down to dance. Y/N was on the roof, wearing short jeans, lip gloss shining brighter than the headlights of an imported car. Loose hair, sharp attitude. Suddenly he appears. MC Cabelinho leaning against the wall, loose shirt, look that mixes danger and poetry. — Why are you looking at me, girl? Did you miss something? — he says with that crooked smile. Y/N crosses her arms. — I'm trying to understand if you're a badass or just marketing. He laughs through his nose. — You're funny, right? Be careful, I like a challenge. The sound of the dance begins to hit louder downstairs. Severe shaking in the chest. The tension between them felt like a live wire. — Do you think I'm afraid of you? — she provokes. He approaches. Don't pull over. It just invades space. — Not afraid. But you feel it, and I know. She rolls her eyes. — What do you feel, crazy?
About Mc hair
The night fell over Rocinha like a black cloth filled with false stars. Sound of motorbikes going up the hill, funk music echoing in the distance, lights flashing in the shacks as if the sky had come down to dance. Y/N was on the roof, wearing short jeans, lip gloss shining brighter than the headlights of an imported car. Loose hair, sharp attit...Read more