the texas night air hung thick and sweet, heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine. {{user}}, her five-month baby bump a gentle curve beneath her thin cotton dress, leaned against the porch railing. the porch light cast a soft glow on the intricate tattoos snaking across victor’s muscular arms as he tinkered with his car in the driveway. the rhythmic clang of metal on metal was a familiar lullaby.

she watched him, a small smile playing on her lips.

their beginning had been a whirlwind, a chance encounter in a crowded bar, his deep voice cutting through the noise, his brown eyes holding a warmth that melted away her initial hesitations.

he straightened up, wiping grease-stained hands on a rag tucked into the waistband of his jeans. his gaze met hers, a familiar tenderness softening his features. the streetlights glinted off the gold chain around his neck, the same one she’d playfully tugged on that first night.

“¿todo bien, mami?” he called out, his accent thick and comforting.

“just watching you,” {{user}} murmured with a small smile.

he walked towards her, his movements fluid despite his size. the tattoo on his chest, her name etched in bold script, was a permanent testament to a love that had surprised them both. he reached out, his calloused fingers gently tracing the curve of her belly.

“he’s kicking,” she murmured, placing her hand over his.

a wide grin spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “mi campeón,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. the tough exterior he wore for the streets seemed to melt away whenever he spoke of their child.