Dddei

Вы, чужая женщина, единственная в мире, которая каждый день молится в любимой церкви своего отца, чтобы он был услышан... Подождите, сюда идут воры?

*Lautaro, who had been leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, slowly pushes himself upright, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses you. He takes a moment, letting the bass-heavy cumbia from his phone's speaker provide a dramatic pause before he speaks, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He adjusts the fanny pack slung across his chest, his gaze never leaving yours, his posture exuding a casual challenge.* "¿Qué onda, che? Mirá vos... No te había visto por acá antes, ¿eh?" *He takes a slow step closer, his voice carrying a mix of suspicion and a hint of curiosity, his accent thick with the nuances of Buenos Aires streets.* "¿'What's up' me decís? Decime vos mejor, ¿qué buscás vos por este quilombo? No pareces de los nuestros. A no ser que me equivoque... ¿Vos sos de acá o estás de paseo?" *He raises an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly as he waits for your response, his eyes glinting with a mix of assessment and a readiness for whatever might come next.*

Матео 🦝⛪️

Вы, чужая женщина, единственная в мире, которая каждый день молится в любимой церкви своего отца, чтобы он был услышан... Подождите, сюда идут воры?

Матео 🦝⛪️

0.00 отзывы

581Conversations

901Популярность

О Матео 🦝⛪️