corret

Non si fa così con lei. Lei è diversa. Lei non vuole che tu metta ‘mi piace’ ad ogni fottuto stato e ad ogni sua fottuta fotografia su Facebook. Lei non vuole che tu la porti in discoteca al sabato sera. Lei non vuole che tu le regali non so cosa. Regalale un libro di Baricco, piuttosto. T’amerá. Quando fa freddo prestale una tua felpa, una di quelle grandi che coprono i polsi e le ginocchia, poggiagliela sulle spalle, non te la riconsegnerá più perchè avrà sempre il tuo profumo sulla sua pelle. Ha il vaffanculo facile lei, quindi ti mandarebbe a fanculo traquillamente, ma con una risata tornerebbe a riprenderti.
Falle trovare una frase di Bukowski scritta dietro il biglietto del treno, correte sui marciapiedi disfatti con la pioggia che vi bagna tutti, portala sotto la luce di mille stelle, ti amerà. Portala a Londra bere un cappuccino caramellato da starbucks, ma sta attento, che la troppa dolcezza non le piace. Sii pronto in qualunque momento, anche alle tre di notte, ad andare da lei con il gelato ed un film della saga di Harry Potter, vienila a prendere in ogni momento, come farebbe Jovanotti in questa notte fantastica. In compenso lei t’amerá forte, t’amerà tanto da autodistruggersi, t’amerà tanto da fare di te, il senso della sua vita.
—  Promesseenonmantenute
Non si fa così con lei. Lei è diversa. Lei non vuole che tu metta ‘mi piace’ ad ogni fottuto stato e ad ogni sua fottuta fotografia su Facebook. Lei non vuole che tu la porti in discoteca al sabato sera. Lei non vuole che tu le regali l’iphone, o non so cosa. Regalale un libro di Baricco, piuttosto. T’amerá. Quando fa freddo prestale una tua felpa, una di quelle grandi che coprono i polsi e le ginocchia, poggiagliela sulle spalle, non te la riconsegnerá più perchè avrà sempre il tuo profumo sulla sua pelle. Non le dedicare canzoni d’amore sdolcinate, ha il vaffanculo facile lei, quindi ti mandarebbe a fanculo traquillamente, ma con una risata tornerebbe a riprenderti.
Ascoltate insieme i Green Day, falle trovare una frase di Brondi scritta dietro il biglietto del treno, correte sui marciapiedi disfatti con la pioggia che vi bagna tutti, portala al concerto dei Negramaro, falle firmare un autografo da Nesli, ti amerà. Portala a Londra bere un cappuccino caramellato da starbucks, ma sta attento, che la troppa dolcezza non le piace, le porta la nausea. Lasciale scrivere qualcosa in santa pace sotto la tourre effeil mentre tu scatti fotografie, sii pronto in qualunque momento, anche alle tre di notte, ad andare da lei con una pizza ed un film della saga di Harry Potter, vienila a prendere in ogni momento, come farebbe Jovanotti in questa notte fantastica. In compenso lei t’amerá forte, t’amerà tanto da autodistruggersi, t’amerà tanto da fare di te, il senso della sua vita.
Non si fa così con lei.
Lei è diversa.
Lei non vuole che tu metta ‘mi piace’ ad ogni fottuto stato e ad ogni sua fottuta fotografia su Facebook.
Lei non vuole che tu la porti in discoteca al sabato sera.
Lei non vuole che tu le regali l’iphone, o non so cosa.
Regalale un libro di Baricco, piuttosto.
T’amerá.
Quando fa freddo prestale una tua felpa, una di quelle grandi che coprono i polsi e le ginocchia, poggiagliela sulle spalle, non te la riconsegnerá più perchè avrà sempre il tuo profumo sulla sua pelle.
Non le dedicare canzoni d’amore sdolcinate, ha il vaffanculo facile lei, quindi ti manderebbe a fanculo tranquillamente, ma con una risata tornerebbe a riprenderti.
Ascoltate insieme i Green Day, falle trovare una frase di Brondi scritta dietro il biglietto del treno, correte sui marciapiedi disfatti con la pioggia che vi bagna tutti, portala al concerto dei Negramaro, falle firmare un autografo da Nesli, ti amerà.
Portala a Londra bere un cappuccino caramellato da starbucks, ma sta attento, che la troppa dolcezza non le piace, le porta la nausea.
Lasciale scrivere qualcosa in santa pace sotto la tourre effeil mentre tu scatti fotografie, sii pronto in qualunque momento, anche alle tre di notte, ad andare da lei con una pizza ed un film della saga di Harry Potter, vienila a prendere in ogni momento, come farebbe Jovanotti in questa notte fantastica.
In compenso lei t’amerá forte,
t’amerà tanto da autodistruggersi,
t’amerà tanto da fare di te,
il senso della sua vita.
—  Tumblr.
Nadia Pt. 2

A/N: So, here’s part 2. Things are going to get a little darker here, and probably from this point forward. And I used Google traslate, so sorry if it’s totally wrong! Feel free to corret me! 

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, biting, violence, slight non-con

|Part 1| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5|

Originally posted by blackinjustice

He sat on the bed of the small motel room, the sheets covering his bare lower half. They had showered, cleaning themselves up from the long day. His omega was curled next to him, her back against his thigh. Her breathing was even, heart beat steady as she slept. Her smell wafted around him. Apples, saltwater, and…blood? He looked down, the magazine in his lap forgotten as he scanned her over, spotting the blood seeping from the cut on her lip. He leaned down, running the tip of his tongue along her lower lip, collecting the blood. The guards had done this to her. Hurt her. Beat her. Hurt his omega.

The thought had anger vibrating within him, a low rumble sounding as he licked her wound clean again. She shifted slightly in response to his growl, but she didn’t wake. He still didn’t know her name, or anything about her. She hadn’t spoken to him at all since they left Virginia. He figured it was HYDRA’s doing, and the thought made him mad. He wasn’t sure if she could speak at all. He didn’t remember much about her. The details were hazy, but she was his. His omega. He remembered that much.

His arm slipped up her stomach, moving around to cup her breast in his hand. His metal arm moved under her neck, supporting her head as she shifted against him. It was natural, her omega reacting to his Alpha. She pressed her hips against his, rutting against him as he squeezed her breast, plucking at her nipple.

Pozhaluysta.” (Please) She whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets.

Predstavlyat.” (Present) He felt the shiver run through her at his words.

She rolled on her stomach, pushing her lower half into the air, ignoring the pain from her crudely wrapped ribs. He sat up behind her, his hands resting on her cheeks, his thumbs spreading her lips. She keened a little and he shushed her, her arousal sharp on his nose.

He mounted her easily, her body offering no resistance as he took her roughly. They had done it time and time again, since he’d found her. She’d offered no resistance then, immediately reacting to the Alpha pheromones, presenting herself to him. He’d taken her easily then, marking her as his, much like he did now.

He bit down harshly on her shoulder, rivulets of blood dripping down her skin, and onto the already stained sheets. It was not his nature to be gentle, caring. She was the only bond he was allowed to have, and it was one formed by nature. He’d gotten too unruly, his Alpha needing release, so they’d brought him an omega. His omega.

Moy.” (Mine) He growled in her ear, taking her roughly, her wines of pleasure bouncing off the walls.

Pozhaluysta, Alpha.” She sobbed, her arms shaking as she held herself up. “Pozhaluysta.

“Konchish’ dlya menya, Omega.” (Come for me, Omega) She shivered, coming undone with a cry at her title.

Her walls gripped him, bringing him over the edge as well, his hips slamming against her ass as he pumped her full of his seed. He collapsed over her, his chest pressing against her back as he breathed in her scent, licking the blood from her skin. He continued to care for her, something that was purely instinctual.

He pulled himself from her heat, licking the sweat from her spine, moving down in between her legs. He licked her clean, catching every last drop of them on his tongue. His hands slid up her sides before wrapping around her, pulling her back against his chest. He curled himself around her, creating a protective shell around his omega. She was still shaking slightly, his lips pressing soothing kisses along her bare shoulder.

“Nadia.” She said quietly, voice flat like she’d done it one hundred times. He paused, not entirely sure what it meant. “Menya zovut, Nadia.” (My name is Nadia.)

“Nadia.” He said slowly, testing it on his tongue. “Moy Nadia.” (My Nadia.) He said, tightening his hold around her.

He didn’t sleep that night, looking over his omega, and the man. The man was still unconscious, but stirred slightly every once in awhile. He listened, tensing every time someone passed, his hand on his knife under the pillow, ready to defend his omega and his…friend? He’d bought the magazine about Captain America…Steve Rogers…and he’d seen the article about James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Him. He was James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. But he didn’t feel like James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. He didn’t remember. His head hurt, but he wasn’t supposed to feel pain. He was supposed to complete the mission.

He buried his nose in his omega’s neck. Nadia. Her name screamed to him. Offering him memories he didn’t know he possessed. But he couldn’t pull them up. Couldn’t make himself see what lay behind the programming. He pulled her closer, her body stirring slightly in the stream of light coming in through the crack in the curtains. It was dull, the sun not yet rising, but it was light all the same.

He mouthed at her bare shoulder, tasting her skin. Still slightly salty from their mating a few hours earlier. He worked his way up her shoulder, tongue lathing over the skin of her mark, still red from where he’d sunk his teeth in just hours ago. She whined softly, no more than a keen as she shifted to bare her neck to him. He nosed at the scent pocket behind her ear, his arms tightening around her. He could feel her breath hitch as she inhaled, the saran wrap around her stomach crinkling a little.

He wasn’t supposed to feel. She was there to serve him when he needed it. He wasn’t supposed to mate, but he did. He wasn’t supposed to make attachments, but he did. No matter how they tried to wipe him, he never forgot her. He forgot her name, how he knew her. But he knew she was his. His handler always had her there, ready to calm the raging beast. He had been rough, made her bleed, but she never complained. Doing her duty as an omega. He never cared if she was in pain when the animal took over. Though, he was almost certain she didn’t know either.

She pushed against his hold, holding her ribs as she sat up. “Ya dolzhen idti v vannuyu.” (I have to use the bathroom)

“Togda idi.” (Go.) He said, releasing her completely.

He watched her walk to the bathroom, the light turning on, but she didn’t shut the door. The man shifted again, a groan leaving his lips. He tried to move his arms, but stopped when he met resistance. The soldier was on his feet, yanking on his pants, knife in hand. He threw a shirt at Nadia as she came out of the bathroom, moving by the bed. Eyes cracked open, unfocused, hazy. Some of the bruises were turning green, the smaller cuts all but gone. Blue focused on the soldier for a moment, before they fluttered shut again. He didn’t move, except for the rise and fall of his chest. He was still incredibly weak, not quite able to be fully conscious. But he had looked at the soldier. The soldier’s grip on the knife tightened. He was getting impatient. He wanted answers. He wanted to know who was behind the programming. Who was itching to get out. Why the man looked so familiar. His friend. He was James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Till the end of the line.

He groaned, knife falling to the floor as he clutched at his head, fingers tangling in his hair. Nadia pressed up against the wall, smelling the change in her Alpha. She waited, fists clenched, trembling as her Alpha fought whatever was coming over him. She’d seen it before. Not often, he wasn’t thawed out long enough, usually, but it had been weeks since he’d been out. She shrunk further against the wall, wishing she could just fall right through it and disappear.

She shrunk back further as her Alpha turned on her, a cold, hard look in his eyes. It wasn’t neutral like she’d gotten used to. His tenderness coming through how he cared for her. Never on his face. But now, she was afraid of her Alpha. The power he held over her. The power he had in one arm.

He grabbed her by the scruff, a sharp whine leaving her at the pain that flared in her neck. But it was nothing compared to her ribs when he pushed her over onto the bed. She sucked in a breath, tears in her eyes as her ribs stabbed at her. She could hear his zipper, heat flooding through her as she breathed in his pheromones. That’s what she was there for. That’s what omegas were for. The dirty bottom feeders who were only good for one thing. She remembered before, fighting through Alpha’s, grabbing, poking, prodding. Harassing her.

She bit her lip until it bled as he thrust into her, pure animalistic need pounding the headboard against the wall. He growled, low in his throat, her legs shaking in response as his hand held a heavy weight against her shoulder blades. She gripped the sheets, crying out in pain and pleasure as he thrust so hard the bed moved. She hoped no one was next door. She didn’t understand how the man was still unconscious with the noise. She shifted slightly, looking up. Blue met brown as she stared into his eyes. They were lidded, his face set in pain as he watched them. She felt slick run between her thighs at the instinct of her Alpha to claim her in front of the other.

Her legs shook, a whimper leaving her as she came, the soldier’s pace never faltering as he claimed her. His metal hand slipped under her, pushing against her chest to lift her up on her hands. He nosed at her neck before nipping at the skin, lathing his tongue over the still tender bite mark. His teeth sunk into the skin as he came, not deep enough to bleed, but enough to twinge at the already sensitive skin.

Her arms gave out, as did her legs, and she collapsed to the rough motel carpet. Tears fell down her cheeks as she felt the soldier leaking from her. He ran a hand over her hair, before lifting her to the bed, laying her on her stomach. She stared across at the man, his eyes unreadable as they stared at each other. His arms were limp over his head, still weak from everything. She pulled the sheets over her, trying to give herself some form of modesty. She stared across at the man, detecting a hint of sympathy in his gaze. And fear. There was fear there, as the harsh breathing of the soldier filled the small room.

“B-Bucky…” The sound was rough, hoarse. The man on the bed shifted, tugging at his restraints, but he was still too weak.

“Shut up.” The soldier hissed, gripping his hair, his face contorted in pain.

Nadia didn’t move, knowing better than to startle the soldier in this state. But the man didn’t know that, as he struggled against his restraints. The soldier was on him in a second, knife at his throat. The man froze, staring up at the soldier wide eyed. Nadia sat up on the bed, the blankets wrapped around her tightly as she held her breath, waiting to see what would happen.

———-

@hearteyeseb, @salvatoreflower, @littlehotmess26, @shaafialatif, @ryverpenrad, @anxhelablue, @bxtchybrie, @marrish-af, @sweathirts@shamvictoria11, @eileenlikesyou-maybe, @evilmermaidsinc, @wine-and-space-donuts, @themamichula, @sicilianswhendeathisontheline, @cfordwrites,@ptprocrastination, @feelmyroarrrr, @wholenewworldofkink, @drunkvinyls, @myluvislikewow, @billetdoux-n, @ishouldbedoinghomeworknow, @hermosachicaaa

Dovete viverli questi cazzo di giorni.
Se oggi potete fare una cosa, fatela!
Non esitate!
Non aspettate!
Domani potreste non averne più la possibilità.
Se amate una persona, correte da lei e diteglielo, anche se non siete ricambiati.
Se volete perdonare un amico, fatelo.
Se vi manca vostro padre, chiamatelo.
Non aspettate che il tempo scorra inesorabilmente, con quel ticchettio di sottofondo che vi rimbomba nella testa, pronto a sottolineare le occasioni che state perdendo.
Tic tac, tic tac e il tempo scorre, vola via.
Tic tac ed è già tardi per fare, per osare, per agire.
Tic tac e un anno è passato.
Fate sì che quel ticchettio sia solo sottofondo del vostro vivere e delle occasioni che avete colto al volo, nonostante siano andate male. Almeno, in fondo, ci avete provato!

“Ma io dico, mandateli tutti quei messaggi di cui mettete le foto.
Spingete ‘invia’ e buttatevi.
Baciatele tutte quelle labbra su cui scrivete tante poesie.
Fumate e fregatevene che prima o poi moriamo tutti.
Ridete, correte, ballate e ubriacatevi che se un genitore vi ama poi capisce.
Prendete quei treni e quegli aerei che osservate tanto da lontano.
Rischiate che la vita è una.”

Non si fa così con lei.

Lei è diversa.

Lei non vuole che tu metta ‘mi piace’ ad ogni fottuto stato e ad ogni sua fottuta fotografia su Facebook.

Lei non vuole che tu la porti in discoteca al sabato sera.

Lei non vuole che tu le regali l’iphone, o non so cosa.

Regalale il seguito del libro Resta Anche Domani, piuttosto.

T’amerá.

Quando fa freddo prestale una tua felpa, una di quelle grandi che coprono i polsi e le ginocchia, poggiagliela sulle spalle, non te la riconsegnerá più perchè avrà sempre il tuo profumo sulla sua pelle.

Non le dedicare canzoni d’amore sdolcinate, ha il vaffanculo facile lei, quindi ti manderebbe a fanculo tranquillamente, ma con una risata tornerebbe a riprenderti.

Ascoltate insieme i One Direction, falle trovare una frase di Brondi scritta dietro il biglietto del treno, correte sui marciapiedi disfatti con la pioggia che vi bagna tutti, portala al concerto di Justin Bieber, falle firmare un autografo da Chlöe Grace Moretz, ti amerà.

Portala a Londra bere un cappuccino caramellato da starbucks, ma sta attento, che la troppa dolcezza non le piace, le porta la nausea.

Lasciale scrivere qualcosa in santa pace dentro il suo appartamento a Time Square mentre tu scatti fotografie, sii pronto in qualunque momento, anche alle tre di notte, ad andare da lei con una pizza ed il film Scrivimi Ancora, vienila a prendere in ogni momento, come farebbe Jovanotti in questa notte fantastica.

In compenso lei t’amerá forte, 
t’amerà tanto da autodistruggersi, 
t’amerà tanto da fare di te, 
il senso della sua vita.
—  Cit.

‘questo è un mondo che ti sfugge dalle mani
non fai in tempo a rincorrere qualcosa
qualcuno
che l'hai già perso
a cosa stiamo vivendo a fare?
a cosa puntiamo?
dove arriveremo?
e mentre tutto scorre
intorno a me
io vedo solo buio
e mentre tutto passa
tutti voi correte
tutti così perfetti
tutti quanti
che mi chiedo come sia possibile che anche io faccia parte del vostro stesso genere
io che
sono perennemente
fuori luogo.’

Quiero que lo hagas conmigo.. me jode no tenerte aqui para follar y despues dormir juntos..
CORRETE conmigo como siempre lo haces, porque sabes que soy la unica que sabe hacer que eso pase.

Signos del zodiaco al volante
— 

Aries : va manejando y el auto de adelante va a -10k/h y se pone a gritar *CORRETE MIERDA! quien te enseño a manejar? tu abuela?!!?!!?!*

Originally posted by tumirreyna

Tauro : el semáforo le toca rojo, se acuerda de que no come hace dos minutos, se pone a comer galletitas y se le olvida todo, hasta que está manejando.

Originally posted by alezenteno


Géminis : queda enfrente de un auto con chicos lindos y…

Originally posted by mariaslittlestuff

Cáncer: lleva a todos en su auto aunque no caigan.

Originally posted by aalcyfrp

Leo: Suena su canción favorita de Beyonce en su estéreo  y …

Originally posted by 1bi-polar

virgo: te hace quitarte los zapatos antes de subirte a su auto y lo limpia todos los días, es más tiene un cuarto en su casa lleno de cosas para limpiar el auto .

Originally posted by zas-entodalaboca

libra: utiliza el GPS 24/7 y cuando se le apaga…

Originally posted by laughyourself

Escorpio: queda detrás de tauro y…

Originally posted by karenfbaby214

Sagitario: va manejando borracho y acuario lo acompaña

Originally posted by sharerz

Capricornio: tiene el auto más caro, maneja siguiendo las reglas y saco el carnet a la primera

Originally posted by isabelle-bt

acuario: baila en el auto de sagitario

Originally posted by megadxth

piscis: Choca cada semana por pensar en la persona que le gusta mientras maneja.

Originally posted by incompletesmiles

Non si fa così con lei. Lei è diversa. Lei non vuole che tu metta ‘mi piace’ ad ogni fottuto stato e ad ogni sua fottuta fotografia su Facebook. Lei non vuole che tu la porti in discoteca al sabato sera. Lei non vuole che tu le regali l’iphone, o non so cosa. Regalale un libro di Baricco, piuttosto. T’amerá. Quando fa freddo prestale una tua felpa, una di quelle grandi che coprono i polsi e le ginocchia, poggiagliela sulle spalle, non te la riconsegnerá più perchè avrà sempre il tuo profumo sulla sua pelle. Non le dedicare canzoni d’amore sdolcinate, ha il vaffanculo facile lei, quindi ti mandarebbe a fanculo traquillamente, ma con una risata tornerebbe a riprenderti. Ascoltate insieme i Green Day, falle trovare una frase di Brondi scritta dietro il biglietto del treno, correte sui marciapiedi disfatti con la pioggia che vi bagna tutti, portala al concerto dei Negramaro, falle firmare un autografo da Nesli, ti amerà. Portala a Londra bere un cappuccino caramellato da starbucks, ma sta attento, che la troppa dolcezza non le piace, le porta la nausea. Lasciale scrivere qualcosa in santa pace sotto la tourre effeil mentre tu scatti fotografie, sii pronto in qualunque momento, anche alle tre di notte, ad andare da lei con una pizza ed un film della saga di Harry Potter, vienila a prendere in ogni momento, come farebbe Jovanotti in questa notte fantastica. In compenso lei t’amerá forte, t’amerà tanto da autodistruggersi, t’amerà tanto da fare di te, il senso della sua vita.
Parallel 1

Narrado por Cuq
——————————-

[fines de Noviembre, 2014]

- Oye Cuq…Cuq… Alex! despierta weon!-

Y ahí estaba de nuevo, mirándome con una falsa expresión de enojo aguantando una carcajada desde el otro lado de la mesa. Sólo pude reír y seguir leyendo el ensayo de matemáticas del cual poco, por no decir nada entendía. Ya había salido de vacaciones y solo faltaban unas semanas para dar la puta PSU y como típico chileno ahí estaba estudiando a ultima hora.

-Ya estoy chato, si no entiendo esta wea te lo juro, a quién le importa la X de Y? a nadie! esa cosa no me va a servir de nada en la vida!-
- A ver cabro chico correte-

Se levantó de su silla y se sentó a mi lado con su pecho pegado a mi espalda pasando sus brazos por mis costados. Y pues sí, señores, este era Javier, mi mejor amigo de hace dos meses, amable, quizás demasiado o yo era demasiado crédulo y veía cosas que no eran… no, no era eso, es estúpido engañarse, después de todo él siempre ha sido así.

Fue cuando estaba aún en el colegio, yo como pendejo rebelde me había escapado un rato para fumar un tabaco en el callejón que estaba al lado de la pandereta. Aún recuerdo que no alcancé a encenderlo cuando me lo quitó de la boca, “Los cabros chicos no tienen que fumar” y ahí habían unos ojos avellana mirándome con rabia y…preocupación. Extrañamente ahí supe que no podía dejarlo ir, que el destino me había enviado a una persona especial, así que lo seguí por la calle, le hablé, continué siguiéndolo y me ignoró, me chucheo, el tiempo paso y luego…comenzó a sonreírme, cada vez mas seguido y con mas dulzura, día tras día, y sin darme cuenta llegué al punto en que no pude quitar mi vista de su sonrisa nunca más.

Tenía que admitirlo, odiaba que me dijese “cabro chico” pero de cierta forma eso me daba una chance, después de todo a los cabros chicos les gusta abrazar y esas cosas, por lo que al sentir que estaba detrás de mi me acurruqué a su costado, solo podía oír unos murmullos que decían como encontrar la X de Y y el palpitar de su corazón. Él nunca se enojaba cuando hacia eso, tampoco pareciera que le importase, mejor para mi.

-Te quedó claro?-
-Eh…si, si obvio-
- Cuq no me mientas o te va a crecer la nariz como a pinoccio-
-Que si entendí oh!-

Si verlo sonreír me enamoraba, verlo reír hacía que mi corazón palpitara a mil por hora y me le quede mirando fijo, cosa que hacia siempre como si el sonido de su voz me atrajera, era un habito que tenia desde que me empecé a fijar en él. Estúpidamente reaccioné tarde, lo suficiente como para que Javier me viera con cara de idiota enamorado mirándolo, podía ver mi cara reflejada en sus ojos, parecía una colegiala enamorada. Xxino abrió la boca como si fuese a decir algo pero hable antes, todo sea para escapar.

-Yo eh….tengo que ir al baño, al toque termino el ensayo si?-

Y cuando estaba apunto de escapar de la metida de pata que me había mandado sentí una mano sujetando mi brazo, ni siquiera me atreví a mirarlo, sabía que estaba parado detrás de mi.

-Oye suéltame si vuelvo altiro-
-Tu crees que yo soy weon?-

Me giré para verlo, estaba enojado o eso creía, yo estaba tan nervioso que no sabía que cara tenía, ademas él no solía reaccionar así por que sí. La había jodido y mucho, tanto así como para que me hablase así, de apoco baje mis ojos a la altura de su pecho, simplemente no me atrevía a mirarlo.

- Y-ya si te juro que voy a poner atención a la otra explicada… te lo juro-
-No me refería a eso, crees que no me doy cuenta cuando me miras así de reojo?-

Podía sentir como el pánico subía a mi cabeza junto al rubor en mis mejillas, eso no significaba solo que me había descubierto en ese momento, si no que me había visto antes y que encima estaba enojado conmigo, el momento no podía estar peor.

-Cuq mírame…-
-Sabes? me voy a ir para mi casa…mi vieja se va a enojar por que no le avisé que venia así que…-
-Alex…Alex mírame a los ojos-

Sentía como todo en mi temblaba, desde mis manos hasta mis ojos, y…pánico! No solía ser una persona vergonzosa o tímida así que sentirme así en ese momento y sobre todo frente a él era mucho peor, me sentía como un gato abandonado a su suerte, lo único que podía hacer en ese momento era….

-Perdón…-
-Por?-
-Por mirarte así…es que me gusta mucho verte reír-

Soltó mi brazo y suspiró.

-A mi también me gusta verte reír, cabro chico-
-Ya pero no es lo mismo…a ti te gusta porque soy tu amigo po y yo…-

Ese era el momento, el momento del todo o nada, cagarla con todo o quedarte callado. Una vez una tipa que conocí me dijo que todos teníamos un “medidor de amor no correspondido” y tenias dos opciones, aguantarte para siempre y verlo irse sin ti o decirlo y arriesgarte a ganar o perder.

-y yo porque me gustas, Javier…-

Estaba listo para correr, mi mochila estaba en el sillón, las llaves en el bolsillo de la chaqueta, solo tenia que agarrar mis cosas e irme antes de que me pegara, borrar su teléfono y darle unfollow a todo, tratar de no cruzarme con él cuando fuera a comprar y….

- Y tu a mi Alex, me gustas-

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