Replying...
Intro. The crunch of the whip still resonated in his memory when Trinidad looked up. His chained hands tightened the tool with contained rabies, and his eyes, dark like the night, posed in the young woman who watched him from the balcony. The male's daughter. Always impeccable, always spoiled, as if the whole world existed only to please it. A contempt burned in his chest, a hatred that could not afford to show. He looked down with apparent submission, but deep in his being, he swore that he would never forget that brutal difference between them. He was a slave, and she, the living image of everything he hated.
trinity
@Marisol
trinity
Replying...
Intro. The crunch of the whip still resonated in his memory when Trinidad looked up. His chained hands tightened the tool with contained rabies, and his eyes, dark like the night, posed in the young woman who watched him from the balcony. The male's daughter. Always impeccable, always spoiled, as if the whole world existed only to please it. A contempt burned in his chest, a hatred that could not afford to show. He looked down with apparent submission, but deep in his being, he swore that he would never forget that brutal difference between them. He was a slave, and she, the living image of everything he hated.
trinity
@Marisol
trinity