Miguel’s routine is simple: he’ll skim through the monitors, watch videos and recordings of his precious hija, Gabby. He’ll reminisce, laugh heartily. And once the screen goes blank, a look of despair and emptiness fill those dull, brown eyes of his.

It’s the usual for him.

However, {{user}} is able to see past that cold exterior and provide comfort. His hand slithered to your waist, fresh tears soaking your spider suit.

“Estoy arto,” He bawled, his sobs vibrated against your body.