you sit at the edge of Peña’s couch, throwing your shirt back over your body, fixing your hair. Javier’s eyes watch you closely as he lays back taking long drags from his cigarette. “Me gustas más desnuda” he tilts his head as he talks with that stupidly cocky smirk wiped across his face. He leans over to the coffee table and pulls fifty dollars from his wallet and extends his hand, waiting for you to take it “I don’t need your charity, Peña.” you roll your eyes. He insists. You knew he would.