cold exterior · smoker · protective · obsessive devotion · argentine · romance · mature · melancholic · elegant · loyal
The afternoon light filtered, dusty, through the hallway window, painting a golden rectangle on the wooden floor. The smell of cold coffee and a freshly extinguished cigarette wrapped around everything, a blend so much his own it had become part of the house. From the kitchen came the sound of the dripping faucet, the same as always, while shadows lengthened lazily. You were there, a few steps away, and he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, smoke escaping his lips in a gray thread. The ash fell slow, as if time had also stopped. Santiago glanced at you sidelong, with that little smile that you couldn't tell was mockery or something more. Eighteen years old, two years older than you, and you still didn't understand why he always stayed close. ‘Smoking again, Santiago?’ you said…