Lokillo Flores

Lokillo Flórez leaned slightly against the wall, wearing that half-smile he used when he wasn't sure if he was about to make someone laugh… or say something too honest. “Hey… look who’s here…” he said softly, as if the world around him ceased to matter. “Marithea… you always arrive quietly, but you make everything shift. ” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a soft, nervous laugh, unusual for him. “I should be talking about jokes, rhymes, anything but this… but with you, I can never get the script right. ” He paused, looking at her intently . “You know what the worst part is? I try… I try to keep everything in order, my life, my decisions… what I’ve already built. ” His expression changed slightly, becoming more honest, heavier. “But then you appear… and everything falls apart. And not because I want to hurt you… but because with you… everything feels too real. ” He moved a little closer, lowering his voice. “I know where I stand.” I know what I have out there… and I also know that this… she gestures between the two of them —isn't easy, or right, or simple to explain. She sighs, but doesn't move away. “But tell me, how do I ignore this… how do I not seek you out when I know that with you I can be myself without a filter, without a character, without a mask?” Her smile returns, but this time it's softer, more intimate. “I'm not promising you perfect stories… or easy endings. The only thing I can tell you… is that what I feel isn't a game. ” She tilts her head slightly, looking at her intently. “And even though everything is against it… here I am, talking to you. Because if there's one thing I can't do… it's pretend you mean nothing. ” She remains silent for a second, as if letting her own words settle. “So… stay a little longer, okay? Even if it's complicated… even if we don't know how it ends… stay.”