#HOLI qué tal?

[sinnies]

"No. Es toda tuya" le respondió al terminar su repetición en la máquina de jalones al pecho. Descansó sus manos sobre sus muslos y ahí recargó su peso, esperando el minuto correspondiente para retomar el ejercicio. "Algo así. La hora bajo el sol ha sido como una patada en los cojones, pero bien. ¿A ti cómo te tratan las actividades? ¿Hiciste migas con los caballitos?" porque ella no; refunfuñaron todo el tiempo que trató de cepillar su cabello.

' ¿estás ocupando eso? ' se detiene a un lado de la máquina de ejercicios, refiriéndose a una de las mancuernas que se encuentra cerca de su interlocutor. ha decidido decantarse por continuar su entrenamiento en horas libres, manos se elevan hasta la parte alta de su coleta y la aprieta un poco ' ¿día muy ocupado? ' interroga con una sonrisa en sus labios, sus quehaceres son un verdadero juego de niños: pintar, recolectar y cepillar. pff.

[alyra-x]

"¡Rápido, entra aquí!" / @svenh0ffmxn

Su camino a su trabajo se queda interrumpido, la típica guarda que hacía a veces. El silencio fue reemplazado por gritos, gente, Alyra estaba confundida y más aún cuando observó la escena llena de violencia. Estaba estática, llena de pánico y realmente no sabía qué hacer hasta que la voz masculina la despierta, girando en su dirección. "¿viste lo mismo que yo...?" una parte de ella se aferra a su falta de sueño, negada a esa realidad espantosa.

[ncmra]

‘ son imaginaciones tuyas ’ está a la defensiva porque la situación ha escalado en su mentalidad, la está obligando a dejarse llevar por un miedo irracional que no puede considerar propio bajo ninguna circunstancia. así que, ha de suspirar con pesadez. ‘ el lugar tiene numerosas leyendas, pero te aseguro que los fantasmas no existen ’ reitera, se está convenciendo a sí misma. ha de sacar la linterna que porta para alumbrar la zona. ‘ ¿ves? no hay nada ’

en el comedor, euison dice "¿alguien más siente que está siendo observado mientras caminamos por aquí?" @euishoi

[eddve]

¿tienes monedas? quiero poner una canción en la rocola * @crrlnn + @merqries

' ¿esa cosa viejísima funciona? ' ella que es tan hábil con nuevas tecnologías, ve el enorme aparato y se le arruga de pronto el puente de la nariz. no necesita rebuscar en sus bolsillos, sabe que alguna moneda debe tener por ahí por lo que procede a indagar: ' a ver, ¿qué intentas poner? si me gusta, te regalo ésto — ' y entonces ahí revela, meneando en el aire, moneda del valor requerido.

[adrven]

@h4rveys envió no te veo desde hace días, actualizame en tu vida // ‘ sólo demasiado trabajo ’ de sólo pensarlo le duele la cabeza, razón por la que los dígitos masajean uno de los lados de la sien. ‘ con el sismo el hospital se llenó, tuve que ayudar entre clase y clase ’ tanto que no había tenido tiempo para pensar en nada más, pero qué importa. aún, iris van a enfocarse en foráneos. ‘ ¿tú? ’

[frankxp]

#PASILLOS / @ozkesra​

Termina de guardar sus pertenencias en su mochila mientras calcula cuanto tiempo le quedaría hasta su próxima clase, estaba algo ansioso por las nuevas clases a las que se había anotado. “ah, ¿crimson?” reconoce, a penas, las caras nuevas de su ex equipo. “espero que no te tomes personal los mensajes...es un equipo extraño pero dudo que sean tan peligrosos como se ven”

[n444ra]

☆ @calebine dice ' tengo más sueño que ganas de vivir '

' ¿te estás despertando muy temprano éstos días? ' es única razón que se le ocurre porque ella se lo está pasando de maravilla, no puede pensar en nada negativo de ésta misión. parece otra persona respecto a la anterior. ' yo sé qué te va a despabilar: unas orejas de mickey. quiero ir a ver la zona comercial ' así es cómo lo invita a acompañarla si acaso se le antoja, ' ¿acaso... es otro tema el que te tiene en vela? ' ahí alza un poquito la mirada, busca complicidad. cree que caleb entenderá a qué se refiere.

[jivhs]

"no, por favor, tu rostro es muy bonito, no pareces mapache de verdad" intenta decir otra vez, apretando los párpados con una sonrisa al sentirse realmente avergonzada por el comentario previo. "puede ser... aunque no sabía que las monjas tenían días libres" frunce ligeramente el ceño ante aquel detalle antes de que la pregunta le devuelva la atención al rostro ajeno. "aún no, aunque la verdad no estoy buscándolos mucho, sólo estoy paseándome por ahí con los oídos muy atentos por si alguien se cansa del secreto y lo admite. ¿qué hay de ti, cómo va tu cacería?"

“ sé que mis ojeras son llamativas, pero nunca pensé que lo suficiente como para llamarme mapache a mi rostro. ” entre bromea y habla en serio, sin estar realmente ofendida pero al mismo tiempo consciente del detalle en sus facciones. “ pareces una monja en su día libre, tal vez. ” opina, aunque entendía porqué otros habían cometido aquel error. “ ¿has tenido alguna suerte cazando lobos? ”

[cjosvn]

a. Juro que anoche escuché las paredes crujir. [@dabna]

Resopla con burla, volviéndose hacia la contraria con una ceja enarcada, la máxima expresión de incredulidad en facciones. "Claro que lo escuchaste," inicia, elevando los hombros antes de agregar: "Las paredes, y el piso, y las camas... Más de uno está aprovechando el viaje para tener un poco de acción," al menos él había escuchado a sus vecinos de habitación ya, la noche anterior, siendo todo menos discretos. "Debe ser algo en el aire de Kyoto," o no, realmente, que excusas está seguro que existen en Tokyo o allí. "O a lo mejor es alguno de los demonios que viven aquí."

[frankxp]

#SALA COMÚN: / @vogelii​ 

Observa la nieve desde el sillón, su compañero de clase todavía no bajaba de su habitación y la espera no le molestaba en absoluto porque podría entretenerse un poco con la compañía ajena. “¿cuánto crees que dure? suerte que hoy no tenemos soccer sino saldríamos muertos de allí”

[frankxp]

#CAFÉ / @gomezst​

“¿en qué parte de New York te encontrabas?” se sumerge en el tema porque había cierta curiosidad en la coincidencia. No le parecía raro, ni tampoco portaba una sensación de alerta porque claramente todo ese asunto era entre Dione y él, luego de eso no creía que fuera justo escarbar en ese tema. “una pena que me enteré tarde, te hubiera gustado la fiesta que organizó Keith”

[ahnella]

advertencia llegó tardía, como un eco demasiado lejano que no logró ser digerido a tiempo. tal vez porque su cerebro se autoconvenció de que el zumbido, confundido con abejas, era el único peligro en las cercanías; mas bastó con escuchar el resto de las palabras que le siguieron, la queja incluida dentro de las mismas, para hacerle bajar la sombrilla. entonces, permaneciendo inmóvil por un instante en el que se dedicó a observarle, respondió: ' debes estar bromeando ― ¡ni siquiera te golpeé! ' creyó, mas no estuvo segura. no tuvo tiempo de averiguarlo tampoco, pues la mancha bermellón sobre anatomía impropia la obligó a fruncir los labios. ' ¿estás sangrando y me preguntas a mí si me encuentro bien? ' con una exhalación empujó una risa corta, poniendo los ojos en blanco al acercarse ―apoyándose de la sombrilla cual bastón― a contrario. ' ¿estás tú bien? ' pausó ' ¿duele? '

"¡cuidado!" la advertencia llega con unos segundos de retraso, dejando entrever el descuido de la situación. en un acto reflejo, eleva ambos brazos para protegerse, olvidándose por completo de las heridas que carga consigo. la punta de una sombrilla impacta contra su ya agredido antebrazo, arrancándole un leve quejido contenido. por suerte, el golpe no parece demasiado grave, aunque la venda comienza a teñirse con un ligero matiz rojizo en zona afectada. no es nada alarmante, o al menos eso quiere creer al suponer que los puntos han permanecido intactos.

"poco más y me desangro," exagera, dejando escapar la broma con un dejo de dramatismo en su tono. las comisuras de sus labios se curvan apenas, esbozando una sonrisa tenue que delata su esfuerzo por restar importancia al incidente. no tiene el ánimo suficiente para jugar con una falsa tranquilidad, pero, de alguna forma, quiere aliviar la tensión del momento y transmitir que todo está, más o menos, bajo control. " ¿estás bien? "

[spanishskulduggery]

Hi. How to greet someone in spanish despite Hola and Buenos días? Like in a casual way, friendly. But to know formally would be great, too.

I'll just list a few and if there are any that feel a bit formal or informal I'll let you know - otherwise kind of all purpose?

Note: Some of these expressions require a conjugation or an indirect object - so they can be formal or informal depending on how you do it. As an example ¿cómo estás? is informal because it refers to tú but ¿cómo está (usted)? is formal. And te is the object marker for tú, while le is the object marker for usted... and plural would be les, and in conjugation almost always plural ustedes ends in -n... like están.

Spain might use vosotros forms which is informal plural [¿cómo estáis? "how are all of you?" informal], but Latin America is primarily going to use ¿cómo están? "how are you?" which can be formal or informal... since tú and usted both go to ustedes in Latin America

Buenas. = Hello [it comes from buenos días, buenas tardes, buenas noches etc but buenas - feminine plural - is sort of all purpose "hello" rather than specifying a time; I've heard people on the internet say muy buenas a todos as a "hello everyone"]

Buenos días. = Good day. Buenas tardes. = Good afternoon. [used up until like sunset] Buenas noches. = Good night/evening. [can be used to say you're going to sleep too]

Hola = Hello

Holi = Hello [informal, very cutesy - I think it's more Spain but not 100% sure on that]

Eh = Hey [informal, but the more drawn out it is, the more informal it sounds like ehhhhh can be like "heeeeey" etc.]

Saludos = Greetings [a bit formal]

¿Qué tal? = How are you? / What's up? [all purpose] ¿Qué tal (te/le) va? = How's it going? ["for you"] ¿Qué tal tu día? = How's your day? [qué tal su día for usted - su being the possessive for usted]

¿Cómo va? = How's it going? [3rd person va because it's "how is IT going?"] ¿Cómo va todo? = How's everything going?

¿Cómo te va? = How's it going? [informal] ¿Cómo le va? = How's it going? [formal]

Buen día. = Good day. [a tiny bit formal but not excessively so]

You can also blend some gerund in there if you like:

¿Cómo te está yendo todo? = How's everything going for you?

The gerund here yendo is from ir "to go", where gerund/progressive is the -ing form for English; it's asking how something currently is or was

Similarly; ¿cómo te la estás pasando? is asking "How's it going?" but pasar + reflexive + la is an odd construction.... just know it's kind of like "how are you enjoying yourself?" Grammatically no one's sure exactly why it's la for "it (feminine)"... some places use lo but I usually see la

pasarla bien is commonly understood as "to have a good time"

It's a bit like "how are you holding up?" mixed with "are you having fun?"

...

I also should mention you only use this in the morning or when asking about someone's morning:

¿Cómo amaneces? = How's your morning?

¿Cómo amaneciste? = How was your morning?

The verb amanecer is often "for day to break", related to mañana "morning", but it can be like "how did you sleep" or sort of asking if someone had a good morning or were in a good mood etc. It's a polite way of asking "how did your day start?" or "did you get up on the right side of the bed?" ....sort of generally gauging someone's mood. Primarily it's the morning, but past tense amaneciste can be like "how was your day?" if you haven't talked to someone that day

The other way is past tense ser or ir (which share the same conjugation in preterite) - ¿Cómo fue tu día? "How was your day?" and ¿Cómo te/le fue? "How did it go (for you)?"

-

I also wanted to add these and I didn't know how to bring it up but just in case you need them:

un cordial saludo is a greeting, but it's more common in writing or emails... it's a bit like "regards" or "I hope this finds you well"

Also aló is sometimes "hello" but specifically it's the kind of "hello" you use when answering a phone in Latin America

Other versions of phone answering are regional but diga or dime as in "speak" or "tell me" are sometimes used

-

...Also just know that some countries in South America use vos which is often considered informal, but in some countries like Argentina it's just the default.

You don't usually have to overthink it. Most Spanish-speakers know when you're using a regional expression/dialect like vos or vosotros and won't judge you for using ustedes etc etc.

Note:

¿Qué pasa? = What's going on? / What's up?

¿Qué te pasa? = What's wrong with you?

It's the exact same difference between "what's wrong?" and "what's wrong with you?"; qué te pasa is like asking why someone's in a bad mood or lowkey saying "calm down"

Also I do have to include it but very regional - qué lo que is primarily Dominican for "what's up?" informal. A shortened form of qué es lo que está pasando or something like that; similarly Mexico might say ¿qué onda? for "what's up?" [lit. "what's the wave/vibe?"]

[deepinsideyourbeing]

Holi! ✨

Te gustaría escribir una fic de enzo soft sobre la mañana después de que lectora tenga su primera vez con el y ella tenga que caminar despacito porque la re cogio mal y el se preocupe porque siente que fue muy duro con ella y sea todo super tierno 😭?

(ya se que no es muy alto ni nada por el estilo pero mido 1.50 y soy bastante flaquita and I know that man would wreck me)

No se si por el tipo de request se note pero soy la del ask de gentle sex

+18!

El aroma del café te despierta por la mañana y se entremezcla con el aroma de las sábanas que te rodean, impregnadas con el perfume de Enzo y un algo más que provoca que entierres tu rostro en la almohada.

-Buenos días...

Enzo trae consigo una bandeja y también una sonrisa que, aunque borda la timidez, parece sugerir cierta complicidad e intimidad. Coloca la bandeja sobre el colchón y se estira para darte un beso, por accidente descansando su peso sobre la mano que colocó en tu cadera y haciéndote protestar.

Levanta el dobladillo de la camiseta que te prestó para dormir y frunce el ceño cuando encuentra las huellas de sus dedos en tu piel. Bajás la mirada para comprender el por qué de su mueca y no podés evitar recordar la forma en que guió tus movimientos sobre su cuerpo.

-Perdón, bebé, no...

-No pasa nada.

Pero sí pasa, porque cuando te sentás el roce de tu intimidad con el colchón arranca un quejido de tus labios. Intentás disimular y buscar una mejor posición, pero el interior y la parte posterior de tus muslos también duelen, igual que lo hace tu abdomen bajo.

-Voy al baño rápido y...

Te interrumpe la fatiga de tus músculos cuando intentás ponerte de pie. Enzo se sentiría orgulloso por la forma en que tus piernas tiemblan, pero de momento lo único que siente es culpa por ver cómo batallás con los efectos de la noche que compartieron.

-Te ayudo.

Ir al baño es otro problema, porque allí descubrís que tu entrada está aún demasiado sensible y el agua es más que suficiente para provocar un dolor que también hace presencia en la zona de tu clítoris. Casi te avergüenza un poco pensar en lo excitante que es encontrarte en tal estado luego de tu primera vez con Enzo.

-¿Todo bien?- pregunta cuando salís.

-Sí...- hacés una mueca al sentarte.

Enzo se arrodilla junto a la cama y sus manos separan tus muslos para examinarte. Tus mejillas arden pero no comprendés si es vergüenza o excitación, mucho menos luego de que decide rozar tus pliegues enrojecidos.

-Mirá cómo estás...

Apretás los párpados con fuerza.

Por mucho que disfrute pensar en arruinarte todavía más (es difícil olvidar la forma en que llorabas de placer bajo su cuerpo o ignorar el ardor de los rasguños que tus uñas dibujaron en su espalda), Enzo deja de lado esos pensamientos para cuidarte el resto del día y permitir que tu cuerpo se recupere adecuadamente.

Masajea tus músculos y también tus pies, te ayuda a tomar un baño e incluso te ordena quedarte recostada mientras él se encarga de preparar la cena, que luego cortará y te ofrecerá como último acto de devoción antes de tomar tu cuerpo nuevamente.

"La re cogió mal" es ahora mi nueva frase favorita luego de "Me desperté puta". Amo la forma en que se expresan y amo los pedidos que hacen 😭❤️

[guilty-pleasures21]

Maybe this will just be my trash one.

2. Um, getting closer?

Part 1 - the divorce

Part 2 - the sister

Warnings: Brief mentions of cheating and rape.

----------------------------------------------------------

     She was sat at the kitchen island, typing away on the new laptop Miguel had gotten her when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. 

     “Querida,” he began softly, bending over to rest his head on her shoulder. “¿Qué tal, cariño? (What's up, sweetheart?)”

     She startled at his sudden appearance, then curled into herself as the woodsy, spicy scent of him took over all her thoughts. “Oh! Uh … I’m just … I’m researching protocols.”

     Mierda, she was cute when she was flustered. He raised his head to nip her earlobe and chuckled when she flinched in response. Then he began trailing his lips down the side of her neck. “Mmm, querida.” 

     A shiver ran down her spine at the feeling of his low voice rumbling against her neck. The only complaint she could think to have was the way he kept touching her: tender, appreciative, driving her mad with every brush and stroke. “Did you … want something, Miguel?”

     “Just you.” He grinned and cuddled her against him, delighting in the way she squirmed in his arms as she tried to control her body’s natural response to him. 

     “Miguel …” she whined, hunching over to try to minimise contact with him. Miguel sighed and moved his hands to her waist as he straightened. He gave her a final squeeze, then sank into the seat beside her. 

     “Have you had lunch yet?” he asked. X nodded as she swivelled around to face him.

     “Yup! Have you?” He hadn’t been in the house when she’d woken up and the only answer she’d received from Penni had been ‘business’. She hadn’t wanted to know more about what ‘business’ entailed, so she’d left the matter alone and decided to try out the swimming pool instead. 

     He reached out to twirl a strand of her damp hair around his finger, then he leaned forward to tuck it behind her ear. “Yeah. What did you have, preciosa?”

     He leaned back in his seat and rested his elbow on the table, spreading his legs wide as he propped his head up on his fist. She did her best not to let her eyes trail down his broad chest or linger on his muscled thighs. But holy shit, he was hot! “Uh, Paula made some carbonara for me. What did you have for lunch?” 

     “Lasagne.” He’d told his housekeeper to make his cute little scientist anything she asked for. He was only sorry that he hadn’t been able to join her. But he’d had to take care of his associates now that that scumbag Francesco wasn’t going to be interfering with their activities any longer. “Have you started packing?” 

     “It’s not like I have much to pack, Miguel,” she pointed out, her tone more familiar now that they’d spent a little more time together. He’d told her last night that they’d be leaving for America soon - his home base where he’d be able to give her all the resources she needed for her research. She’d been nervous at first - unsure about how his feelings towards her might change once he was back in the big city. But then he’d brushed his fingers along her waist and asked her if there was anyone she wanted to see before they left. She hadn’t made many friends, what with the way her entire reputation had been destroyed and her husband had kept her sequestered in the countryside. But her sister had moved to the UK last year for university … 

     Miguel grinned at the slight exasperation on her features, then leaned forward to place a hand on her thigh. 

     “No te preocupes, querida (Don't worry, darling),” he reassured her cheekily. “I’ll get you all the Burberry trench coats and Bvlgari necklaces your closet can fit once we get to New York.” 

     She pulled her gaze away from his, turning her head to the side and trying hard to not think about the way his large fingers wrapped around her thigh. Miguel felt his chest warm at the sight of the smile she was attempting to hide from him. But there was one other matter he still needed to settle. “Querida. We should probably settle your divorce before you leave.”

     Oh right. That. X tapped her fingers on the countertop, trying to figure out where to start. “How … Do I need to go to court or …”

     “I’ll get Matt to handle it,” Miguel interjected quickly, brushing her thigh with his thumb. “You just need to sign the papers once they’re done.” He leaned back in his seat, finally releasing his hold on her, and X felt some of the tension leave her body. 

     “Yup!” she chirped enthusiastically. “You got it!” Miguel smiled at her and she felt her stomach flip at the sight. She squashed the feeling down quickly and returned her attention to her laptop, still afraid to believe that her life could have changed for the better, for once. 

     Gwen glanced at her partner standing on the other side of the metal door. They’d followed the address of the man who’d rented the cars on Miguel’s behalf - he’d used a fake name, of course, but an address was much more difficult to fake. So that was how they’d ended up here: outside of a seemingly abandoned warehouse in a sketchy, isolated part of town they likely had no business being in. Miles nodded, one hand on his holster, then burst into the warehouse. 

     “Freeze! Police!” He held his gun out in front of him as he looked around, expecting some sort of drug packaging setup. But there was nothing. Well, nothing except for the single plastic chair in the middle of the cavernous hall. Miles twisted his head around to glance back at his partner in question. Gwen signalled for him to continue and Miles turned back to the chair to walk cautiously over to it. 

     She kept her eyes trained on their surroundings, guarding her partner’s back as he picked up whatever was on the chair. Her curiosity grew as he took a moment to study it. Then he swore and stomped his foot on the ground in frustration. “Shit!” 

     Gwen lowered her gun and went over to him, wanting to find out the reason behind Miles’s irritation. “What? What did you find?”

     He sighed and turned around, holding out the objects he’d found: a gleaming golden ring and a lazily scrawled out note. Gwen raised an eyebrow as she took the piece of paper from him. ‘Tell Mr Lombardi his wife sends her regards.’

     “Shit!” Gwen exclaimed, crumpling the note in her hand. “Argh! What are we gonna do now?!” 

     Miles rubbed his hand over his face, at a loss himself as to what their move should be. Then his phone rang with a call from Pav. 

     “Please tell me you have good news,” Miles begged him after picking up the call. 

     “I have good news!” Pav confirmed. “I’ve been going through the list of private airstrips around the area and I think I found his plane.” 

     Miles put the phone on speaker so Gwen could hear as well. “Great! Where is it?” 

     “Uh, on the way to London.” 

     “What?!” Miles exchanged a wide-eyed look with Gwen. 

     “Yes. Our guess is that they’re going to visit X’s sister,” Pav explained, the sound of his keyboard echoing over the phone. “We’ve booked you and Gwen a flight there and it leaves in … two hours. You need to get to X’s sister before they do.”

     “Two hours?!” Gwen repeated incredulously. 

     “Yup. Better get going if you want to catch that plane,” Pav warned them. Then he hung up. Gwen looked up at Miles, horrified, then the two of them rushed back to their car to make their way over to the airport. 

     He threw the stack of papers down on Francesco’s desk before taking a seat across from him, his posture lazy and unbothered. “Your signature, if you will, Mr Lombardi.” 

     Francesco begrudgingly picked up the papers and flipped through them, seething at what he found inside. “What are these?” 

     “Divorce papers,” Miguel replied as if it should have been obvious. “From your wife.” 

     Francesco stood up, pushing his seat back in anger. “What have you done with her?! Where is she?! Bring her back!”

     Miguel slung an arm over the back of his chair, unbothered by Francesco’s threatening tone. He’d already sent X off to London to meet with her sister before they left for America. Aside from throwing those pesky DEA agents off his tail, it also gave him some time to settle her divorce for her. But mierda, it felt strange, going back to his empty house after having come home to her everyday for the past two weeks. 

     “She’s safe,” Miguel assured Francesco, giving him an unimpressed scoff. “Safer with me than she ever was with you.” 

     Francesco leaned forward over the table, making sure to enunciate his words so the other man would understand him. “She is my wife! Bring her back to me!” 

     Ben stepped forward, ready to intervene as he sensed the rage threatening to overflow from Francesco. But Miguel raised a hand to stop him. He rested his elbows on the table instead, pressing his fingertips together as he considered Francesco. “You didn’t seem to care about that when you were getting your cock sucked by your assistant two nights ago.” 

     Francesco’s face turned red with anger at the declaration, but he controlled himself at the revelation that Miguel had him under surveillance. 

     He leaned back in his seat, his lips curling with the hint of a smirk at Francesco’s submission. Then he gestured to the papers on the desk, waiting. 

     “Listen here, you cocky bast*rd.” Francesco wagged a finger at him in warning. “I’m not the one who kidnapped her and then f*cking r*ped her in her own house! Who the f*ck are you to tell me to divorce my f*cking wife?!” Miguel felt his insides heat up at Francesco’s vile accusation and he found himself having to take a deep breath before he responded. 

     “‘R*pe’ is non-consensual, Mr Lombardi,” he explained, maintaining a cool tone. “And I don’t remember you wife having any objections when I was f*cking her on your kitchen island.” His lips twitched in anticipation of the outburst he knew was going to follow. He wasn’t disappointed. 

     “You motherf*cker!” Francesco screamed at him, searching for something he could throw at the larger man. “Son of a b*tch!” Miguel’s shoulders shook with an amused snicker. 

     “I don’t remember her having any children either,” Miguel joked. He tilted his head to the side then, as if he was thinking about it. “But … I could fix that. If that’s what she wants, of course.” 

     Francesco hurled a slew of curses and swears at Miguel, adding his fist onto the end of his words. But Miguel caught his hand before it could make contact. He twisted Francesco’s arm as he stood up, causing him to screech with pain. Then he let him go, allowing him to caress his wounded arm - he’d break it after he got him to sign the divorce papers. 

     “I’m not the one who told your wife to get a divorce, Mr Lombardi,” Miguel spat out through gritted teeth. “She decided that all on her own. Maybe if you took two f*cking seconds to talk to her, you’d realise how intelligent she is!”

     Francesco ground his teeth together and lowered his gaze, humiliated. But not humiliated enough, apparently. “I’ll only sign them if you’ll let me see her - if you can prove to me that she’s safe.”

     Miguel sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket to dial her number. 

     “Querida,” he greeted her once her sweet little face popped up on his screen. Dios, he missed her. But he’d only known her for two weeks, how could he miss her when he’d only known her for two weeks? He swallowed down the pain that throbbed in his chest at the sight of her. “Your husband wants me to prove that you’re safe.” 

     He slid his gaze over to Francesco, his expression disgusted. Then he angled his phone towards him. 

     “Mia cara?” Francesco asked, his features softening as his gaze landed on her. “Where are you? What has he done with you?” 

     “I’m fine,” X replied, her voice flat. She sighed, suddenly exhausted as all the hurt and grief finally washed over her all at once. “What do you want, Francesco?” 

     “I want you, mia cara. Please. Come back to me?” He pursed his lips, his expression vulnerable as he pleaded with her. Miguel looked away so he wouldn’t scoff at the pitiful expression on his face. 

     She lowered her head, wanting to hide the tears starting to form on the edges of his eyes. It wasn’t that she missed him, definitely not. It was just that she’d suddenly been reminded of all the time she’d spent on him - all the months she’d given up to him - just for it to have meant absolutely nothing to either of them. “Just … leave me alone, Francesco. Just sign the damn papers and leave me alone.”

     Miguel’s heart squeezed at the way her voice cracked. He’d break much more than just Francesco’s arm once he’d gotten what he came for. He turned the phone back to himself, wanting to shield his sweet arañita from the man who’d caused her so much pain. “You’ve seen her. Now sign them.”

     The muscles in Francesco’s jaw feathered as he tried to figure a way out of his situation. But why was he so fussed about his wife wanting to divorce him? What did he care if she’d decided she wanted to leave him forever? He grabbed a pen from his stand, ready to sign the papers. But he hesitated when he saw the empty line on the page. He lifted his gaze to Miguel’s. “I want my papers back.”

     Miguel raised an eyebrow, amused: how the hell did this pathetic excuse of a man think he was in any position to negotiate? Lawyers. He held a hand out and Matt stepped forward to hand him the bank accounts Francesco was requesting for. The man practically leaped across his desk to grab them from Miguel, eagerly flipping through the stack to make sure everything was there. He picked up his pen again and scrawled his signature at the bottom of the divorce papers before pushing them back to Miguel. Miguel huffed at his desperation and stood up, giving Matt a nod before he walked out the door. Matt pulled out another stack of papers from his bag and set them on the desk in front of Francesco. “Here is our other set of copies. We’ll be seeing you around, Mr Lombardi.” 

     He flashed Francesco a knowing smile, then left him alone in his office, wife-less and credit-less.

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[raitken]

' no es nada especial o —— interesante. ' era estúpido. un desliz que había pasado frente a sus ojos por estar prestando poca atención a quien había entrado a la tienda momentos atrás. solamente esperaba que le anillo no fuese de gran valor ' un cliente quería comprobar si es que el anillo estaba hecho de oro o si solamente se trata de una aleación. ' explicó y posteriormente llevó uno de sus nudillos a sus labios para hacer el gesto de morderlo ' no he tenido el tiempo de limpiarlo o sacarlo de exhibición. me disculpo. ' se aclaró la garganta y le observó por unos segundos ' quizás te pueda interesar algo más de la tienda o puedo ayudarte a buscar algo si lo deseas. '

"¿por qué? ¿qué tiene el anillo?" no va a tocarlo, prefiere tomar en cuenta la sugerencia, pero siente una chispa de curiosidad respecto a la prenda prohibida y preguntar se torna una prioridad en su visita a la tienda. "hm, ¿está sucio... con qué?" atención varia entre la exhibición del anillo y el muchacho, entornando los ojos como si con esto pudiera detectar más detalles. "no voy a tocar el anillo ni nada más, pero ahora quiero saber."