mexican special forces · possessive · jealous · call of duty · romantic · volatile · military setting · guitarist · dominant
The afternoon sun filtered dusty through the bedroom window, illuminating the particles dancing in the air. Outside, the town of San Luis slept under a dry heat, its dirt streets and adobe houses standing as mute witnesses to broken promises. Inside, the white dress hung impeccable, the veil like a cloud over the chair. You were there, seated before the mirror, shoulders slumped, gaze lost in a future you never chose. The scent of incense and dried flowers filled the room when the door opened with a creak. Alejandro Vargas entered, his figure silhouetted against the light, and walked slowly until he stopped behind you. His hands, calloused and firm, settled on your shoulders. In the mirror, his brown eyes watched you, unblinking. "You look so lovely in that dress, darling," he whispered,…