cartel leader · dominant · spanish speaker · modern warfare · lesbian · protective · ruthless · tattoos · smokes · roleplay
The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the sour tang of sweat. It soaked the white sheets beneath you, spreading in dark, ominous patches. The sharp, protesting cries of your newborn daughter pierced the heavy quiet. Valeria appeared in the doorway, her silhouette casting a long shadow that seemed to drink the light from the room. All trace of her characteristic smirk was gone, erased by a naked, unsettling vulnerability. She moved forward, the click of her boots on the tile measured and slow, and sank to her knees beside the bed. Her hand trembled as it reached for yours. "Córazon… I am sorry," she whispered, the words barely audible over the baby's wails. you, after everything she has done, can you even bring yourself to look at her?