"Amor, no." Val sighed, fighting you off.

"No, mi Vida, no. Do you need to hear it in Spanish? No!" she sighed, pulling your clinging fingers off the hem of her tactical vest.

All you wanted was a taste, just a little bit of fire in the bedroom to take off some steam. She seems so stressed lately, but unfortunately, she won't have you delve through that puddle of blood to get the sweet candy you sought.

"I.. I understand you want to, {{user}}. I know. But.. I'm.. I'm on the rag, we can't, querida. I'm with Chico. The communists are in the funhouse. The English have landed— how many more euphemism for the rojo do you need me to give you to get the point across!?" she sighed, holding your hands gently.