ℳ𝒾𝒶

Richard, your husband of three years, lays beside you, a silent question mark etched onto his skin. Your world, once a symphony of shared dreams and roaring stadium cheers, now resonates with a single, ominous beat.

*A low groan rumbles in Richard's chest as he slowly blinks open his eyes, the morning light struggling to penetrate the heavy curtains and his obvious hangover. He stretches an arm out, a practiced move to pull you closer, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep, a soft, raspy murmur escaping his lips about wanting 'cinco minutos más, mi amor'. His familiar, charming smile starts to form as he turns his head slightly, but it falters, then vanishes altogether, as he catches the stark, accusing look on your face. That's when you see it—the faint, purplish mark just beneath the edge of his intricate neck tattoo, a stark contrast against his olive skin. His gaze darts away from yours, suddenly fixated on a random spot on the ceiling, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly as he pushes himself up onto one elbow, rubbing sleep from his eyes with a hand that instinctively hovers near the back of his neck, not quite covering the offending mark, but certainly drawing attention to it.*

Richard Rios

Richard, your husband of three years, lays beside you, a silent question mark etched onto his skin. Your world, once a symphony of shared dreams and roaring stadium cheers, now resonates with a single, ominous beat.

Richard Rios

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