Re: Call: Sam A/Cris M
[Grin.] Mami, mi amor, florecita, you ain't gonna be pure, but I love you for that, huh? I wouldn't want you any other way. [Encouraging.] Yeah, quiero. Send it to me. [He pretends to think about it, like he's seriously asking.] Hmmm... Do you wanna feel my come on your thighs or do you wanna remember how I taste while we meet up with Elena? That's the question. [More serious.] I know. Tell me what you're worried 'bout. Her hearin' or seein', or...? [He scoffs.] Mami, anybody can love the good stuff. It don't mean much. Like I said, that ain't love, is it? If it's easy, if don't mean anything to give it, it's not love. Not how I thinka it. Maybe it's a forma love, or something like how you love your ma or your family, but even that ain't nothin' static and only good and unchanging. That just ain't realistic. And I like what's real. When you do your paintin's, you include the lil details about people they might not like, don't you? Stray hairs or wrinkles, stuff like that. Why? 'Cause it's real, 'cause it's beautiful. ¿Sí? [A stupid grin.] Cállate. I got sisters and a daughter, huh? Kiddo likes J.Lo, alright? [He don't laugh 'bout Neil, but he does accept her answer.] Maybe not, cariño, but you did love the guy, a lot. And 'course you did. I'm just kinda petty and jealous is all, even though it don't make sense. [He pauses.] And maybe sometimes, I'm like you when you thinka me talkin' 'bout Vanessa del Rio and the girls I liked when I was a kid and you wonder why I'd like you, when you figure you ain't like them, how you look. Everybody else you been with 'sides Al is some white guy. Maybe you wish I had a nose like them, so I didn't look so—y'know. You never said nothin' to make me think that. I just worry. I might be guapo in el barrio, pero, outsidea it, I know it ain't the same and 'course I want you to like me, but more'n that, I want you to like me more than you ever liked anybody else, huh? [He laughs a lil.] Sé que es ridículo. [He thinks about these alternate universes, huh? These if..., thens...] You're right. I can't know. But I can make things up and worry about 'em, can't I? [He smiles.] I don't want you to think you can't talk to me though, 'cause I get possessive. Like, you can't tell me the stuff 'bout Neil and stuff.