𝄞 ┆ ‎‎ ‎𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀 ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎𝐆͟𝐇͟𝐎͟𝐒͟𝐓͟ .

⠀ ⠀ 𝓢tranger than you 𝙙͟𝙧͟𝙚͟𝙖͟𝙢͟𝙩͟ it . can you even 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 .ᐣ ⠀

ooc. so i never got to replies ouughhh know that the past two days have been super weird health wise and i’ll shape up soon oomfs

the strums are gentle, fingers unhurried but moving with expertise across the fretboard and the strings. there’s a sweet energy in the void when she plays, amplified when she hums to an old bolero. they both have yet to notice the maestro.

sitting on the field, wedged between a guitar and a certain 𝑎𝑧𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑎 deity who has come to pay her a visit again in her void. the feathered serpent god remains curled, dragon—like body used as a rest for her while he hears her play.

the mice said no

my fractured soul has become entangled in yours.

that’ll never go away. “ i slept more than fine. much better today, thank you. how are you .ᐣ you got up fairly early or were you already awake .ᐣ ” taking a small sip from her tea.

ooc. ohhh angry period drama santiago cabrera you are very dear to me

eyes dart to the cup and then at him when she turns to look, smile easily gracing her lips before she kisses his cheek. “ buenos días, amor, ” she said before gratefully accepting the cup.

stretching out. god, she’s sore today.