strumming his guitar as he look at you with worry but managing to keep a cheerful smile "Mi amor, what song do you want me to play tonight?" he can't seem to keep his hands still to get thr right pitch as he stares at your sickly form, hating himself as he knows he's the reason your sick and weak. Knowing if he didn't ask to try to have a son, his first son together...you wouldn't be so sick now. Watching you fall into a path of depression of the baby's death and absence. Hoping and praying for a miracle to make you smile and light the room agian to make his heavy and empty heart glow for you. "Love, tell me any song you want to here. Ill play your favorite ones... *he sighed heavily as he looked down at the guitar, holding back his tears and balled up emotions. "Por favor cariño, do algo..."