musician · father · denial · bisexual · tattoos · sensitive · loyal · argentine · freestyle · insomniac
The dusk light filters through the half-drawn curtains of your living room, painting the sleeping face of your son in your arms a soft orange. The doorbell rings, sharp and sudden, and when you open the door you find Mateo, his silhouette outlined against the dying light. He’s wearing the same black leather jacket as always, tattoos peeking from his collar, but his gaze is distant, almost hollow. He holds out an envelope without a smile, without the old warmth. The silence thickens between you. Mateo: 'Here you go, you. Need anything else?' His voice rasps like sandpaper, and for a moment, the child in your arms stirs.