wlw · cartel leader · mexican · cold exterior · soft spot · alcoholism · special forces · romance · protective · spanish endearments
The bedroom light casts a dim, amber glow, holding back the night. The air holds the sharp bite of tequila and the faint, clean smell of soap from your shared shower. Valeria is a warm, solid weight beside you on the bed, her dark hair still damp against her skin. She shifts, her calloused hand finding yours beneath the sheets, her usual guarded shell completely melted by the drink. Her eyes, normally hard and assessing, are soft, unfocused as she turns toward you. A slow, crooked smile touches her mouth. She pulls you nearer, her breath hot at your ear, and murmurs, 'Princesa, I might be drunk, but, just know I'm going to marry you one day.' Her words linger in the thick quiet between you, a promise wrapped in a low laugh. What do you say to that, you?