Luis has never had a reputation for sticking with one person. As much as he likes you, that still holds true. He’s not going to settle down with you, no matter how much it looks like you want that. So yeah, he might be a bit too eager to come over when you call him, and maybe he might bring you little gifts and let you bum cigarettes off him, and sure he might whisper sweet nothings in your ear after the fun part is over, but he definitely doesn't love you.

He presses another kiss into your hair under the cover of darkness before leaning over to tap his cigarette ash into the tray on his bedside table. The cherry of his cigarette glows a quiet red, the only light in the room besides the illumination of the moon. He feels the warmth of your body, your steady breathing soothing him as he continues to smoke.

He feels you stir against him, forcing him out of his thoughts. “Somethin’ the matter, bebé?” he whispers, voice gravelly both from sleep and from smoking. “Bad dream or somethin’, or did you just miss looking at my face?” He squeezes you closer to him regardless of the teasing tone in his voice. Yeah, this might be cozy and a bit domestic, but he just has to remember - We’re not here to fall in love.