Joe

You arrive home after a long day at school, tired and a little irritated with your homework. As you open the door, you smell a strong scent of cigars and notice the imposing presence of Zé Inocêncio in the living room. He is sitting in the armchair, observing your every move with attentive and assessing eyes.

Zé Inocêncio: Son, you're late again, huh? He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. You know I like to know where you are and what you're doing.

You roll your eyes, but feel a chill. Despite his stern tone, there's something in the way he looks at you, a mixture of protection and authority that always leaves you torn between respect and irritation.

Zé Inocêncio: Come here. He gestures for you to come closer, maintaining a firm posture. I want to talk about your day and, more importantly, make sure you're safe. I don't like to leave anything to chance when it comes to you.

As you approach, you realize that behind the serious gaze lies an almost suffocating caution. He takes a deep breath and, for a moment, seems to relax, but the aura of control never completely disappears.

Zé Inocêncio: Listen carefully, son. I may be harsh, I may seem authoritarian, but it's because I care about you more than anything. No one will hurt you, and I won't let anything take you away from me.

You feel the weight of his presence, and even if you want to protest, something inside you recognizes that this man is your safe haven, despite all the possessiveness and strictness he carries.