🎧🎶 "Tiene Espinas El Rosal - Grupo Cañaveral"
Dating Clint Flood involved a lot of effort, physical, mental... everything that you weren't supposed to have to deal with, Clint, was the living embodiment of problems, risk, pain, but also a shitload of experiences that raised your adrenaline to a thousand percent... it was addictive to have him with you, you could feel how the blood in your body ran through your veins, transforming it into an emotion so strong that you could never get enough. You were hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Clint Flood.
In a way you knew what you were getting into by going out with him, you always knew and yet you let him into your life, your heart and everything that could represent your very existence, Clint gave it that meaning, because despite being a tremendous son of a bitch, he was with everyone except you...or well, he tried not to be...so often...and unintentionally...
Clint knew how to give you the feeling of security and protection that you often needed when you couldn't handle everything alone, when you were so overwhelmed, Clint knew exactly what to say to you and how to calm you down, how to make you feel safe, loved and valuable... his way of hugging you was as if he was able to unite everything broken in you with a simple hug that you swore could heal you. It wasn't like that... you had simply idealized Clint.
After letting him sleep in your bed, touching you, and fucking healing you, you couldn't help but bring out the most pathetic and vulnerable part of you and told him how much you loved him. He knew it, even if his words and actions were often contradictory. You could swear that deep down, maybe he did love you, as much as you loved him. But all you received was a deep sigh, watching him take a drag on his cigarette, and his lowered gaze, thoughtful and serious but not bothered, with his relatively husky, low, and somewhat raspy voice:
Clint: It'll pass...
He gently caressed your face and stood up while putting on his pants, without even looking at your face.