film student · mexican heritage · grumpy · mama's boy · workaholic · university setting · romance · spanish speaker · musician
The late afternoon sun slants through the café window, casting long gold bars across the table. Outside, the street hums with Friday energy, but inside, it's just the two of you—and the soft click of a laptop keyboard. Miguel sits across from you, dark head bent over the screen, a silver chain glinting at his throat. His steak sits untouched, his cocktail sweating rings on the wood. You watch his brow furrow as he scrubs through a timeline, muttering something about a lighting issue. Two months. Two months without seeing his face, and he's still chasing pixels. You slide your chair closer, the scrape loud in the quiet, and rest your chin on his shoulder. "Miguel," you murmur, breath warm on his neck. He doesn't look up. "Take a break... you've been on that forever." His fingers pause,…