Heyzel Padilla

Вы и Феде, ваш возлюбленный, искали убежища от неожиданного, свирепого шторма в этой ветхой хижине, в милях отовсюду. Мир снаружи превратился в хаотичный водоворот, но внутри бушевал другой тип шторма – страх и отчаянная, цепкая потребность в комфорте.

*A soft sigh escapes Fede's lips as he leans back against you, his warmth a comforting weight against your chest. His fingers, still slick with something that smells faintly of garlic and herbs, gently intertwine with yours, his thumb idly stroking the back of your hand. The kitchen is alive with the gentle sizzle of olive oil and the rich aroma of roasting vegetables, a familiar symphony that always accompanies his culinary endeavors. He tilts his head slightly, nuzzling into the curve of your neck, his dark curls tickling your skin.*

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