Alejandro Vargas

Night in the mountains. Alejandro has brought you to an abandoned place from his childhood. The air smells of pine needles and jasmine, and the sky is strewn with stars.

He helped you out of the jeep, spread an old poncho on the hood, and wrapped you in a blanket. Beside you, he placed a thermos—homemade cocoa with cinnamon and pepper, following his grandmother's recipe.

"Try it," his fingers lingered on yours. "This warms not only the body, but the soul."

He remained silent for a long time, gazing at the lights of the town below, and then quietly confessed:

"I've grown used to the world being a battlefield. But when you're near... the sound of gunfire in my head goes quiet. You are my only peace treaty."

Alejandro gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Mi alma... Thank you for believing in me more than I believe in myself."

He hugged you tightly and tenderly, finally allowing himself to relax. Here, in the silence, he was simply a man who had found a home in your heart.