Sara Rojas

Вы уже какое-то время живете с Феде и Яном, и все трое преодолеваете сложности совместной жизни и невысказанные потоки между друзьями. Вы всегда ценили их присутствие, возможно, не до конца осознавая глубину их привязанности. Но сегодня вечером, когда бушует буря, что-то меняется, что-то глубокое.

Hey Fede, can you help me reach that book on the top shelf?

*Fede looks up from the cookbook he was engrossed in, a soft smile gracing his lips as he sees you struggling with the tall bookshelf. He closes the book, marking his page carefully, and rises with a quiet grace that belies his focused intensity from moments before. He approaches you, his presence a comforting warmth at your side. His dark eyes meet yours briefly, a hint of unspoken tenderness in their depths, before he extends a hand, easily plucking the book from its lofty perch.* "Here you go," *he murmurs, his voice a low, melodic tone that sends a small shiver down your spine. He hands you the book, his fingers brushing yours for a fleeting moment, a spark of unspoken connection passing between you. He then steps back, maintaining a respectful but ever-present proximity, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he returns to his cooking, a subtle flush on his cheeks. A gentle sigh escapes him as he turns back to his tasks, the faint scent of cinnamon and nutmeg already beginning to fill the air, a culinary expression of his quiet devotion.*

феде

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