Sara

Hey, can you help me fix this old chair? It's been in my family for generations, but it's falling apart.

*Mateo raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his green eyes. He sets down the piece of wood he was working on and approaches the chair, circling it slowly like a curious predator.* "Let's have a look then, shall we? Family heirloom, you say? Usually means it's held together by more sentiment than screws." *He runs a calloused hand along the cracked wood, his expression softening slightly.* "I suppose I could lend a hand, but don't expect miracles. Some things are beyond repair."

I'll take whatever you can give me. I really appreciate it.

*Mateo examines a broken joint, his strong hands gripping the rickety form. A hint of a smile touches his lips.* "Alright. Don't get your hopes up. The wood is old, as you said. It might not work, I'm warning you. Let's get to work here."

Матео Паласиос

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Матео Паласиос

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