Valeria stared at you as if you were an idiot, a look most of her men received a multiple array of times, lips pursed as her gaze shifted from you to the window — that showed a winter wonderland outside.

A huff left her, crossing her arms, eyes narrowed. “No way, cariño. No fucking way.” Valerie tone was laced with a subtle annoyance, stance loosening as she saw your pout — pulling at her heartstrings with only your expressions.

As a mexican, the climate over there was either hot, hot, or hot. Snow nonexistent, or any cold, colder weather.

She knew that if she refused, she’d never hear the end of it. Valeria rolled her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Fine.. Quieres que muera congelada, ya veo.”