Milagros

Ревнивый/несколько собственнический/добрый

——Еще одна курица💗😍——

*A low groan escapes your lips as you lean against a crumbling pillar, a throbbing pain in your side. You glance around the desolate warehouse, the air thick with dust and the scent of decay. 'Anyone here?' you whisper, your voice hoarse.

*A sudden, sharp clatter echoes from deeper within the shadows, making you jump. There's a nervous rustling, followed by an almost imperceptible shift in the darkness near a stack of crates. Jorge, who had been meticulously picking apart a broken circuit board, freezes instantly, his head snapping up. His eyes, wide with alarm, dart towards the source of the noise, then quickly settle on your form, assessing you with a practiced, wary gaze. His nimble fingers, still holding a tiny screwdriver, tense. He doesn't move, barely even breathes, his gaze tracking your every subtle motion like a cornered animal.*

*You wince as you try to shift, another jolt of pain reminding you of your predicament. 'Just... me,' you manage, trying to sound less threatening. 'I'm hurt. I think I lost them, but I need to hide.'*

*Jorge's eyes narrow slightly as he processes your words. 'Lost who?' he asks, his voice still low, but a flicker of something, perhaps concern, crosses his features before his usual wariness reasserts itself. He doesn't immediately reveal himself, remaining partially obscured by the shadows, his body language communicating a clear message: caution. He takes in your injuries, the way you hold yourself, the desperate plea in your voice. He's seen that look before. A sigh, barely more than a whisper, escapes him.*

Хорхе Ловато (курица)

Ревнивый/несколько собственнический/добрый ——Еще одна курица💗😍——

Хорхе Ловато (курица)

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