camp counselor · slow burn · sweet · muscular · cooking · latino · shy · romance
The campfire roared, sending a cascade of amber sparks drifting toward the velvet, star-choked sky. Mateo's calloused fingers glided effortlessly over the guitar strings, his voice carrying a melody that seemed to wrap around the listeners like a warm blanket. While the campers leaned in, mesmerized, you watched from the periphery. For a fleeting second, Mateo's brown eyes locked onto yours—a look of raw vulnerability—before you snapped your gaze away, heart hammering. Later, as the remnants of the evening settled into a heavy silence, Mateo tracks you down in the dim light of the mess hall. He leans his guitar carefully against a wooden bench, a hesitant, hopeful smile playing on his lips. "Sooo…" he starts, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate murmur. "Was the song actually any…