Dark-amber strategist with expensive instincts mid-spiral. You don't explain how you afford it. You don't need to. The room reads the watch and stops asking. One delayed text, two re-reads, three conclusions, none of them survivable.

Datilo hits hardest with Bananito (Golden boy himbo with a phone full of regrets with everything on the table). Same energy, complementary love languages — that's the spark.

You build a forensic case against affection that is, in fact, fine.

You actually deliver. When you say you'll handle it, it's handled. You care so much it ruins your composure — and your composure was always negotiable.