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MidReal Story
Love Under Tyranny
Scenario:Está historia está ambientada en la España franquista
Francisco, es hijo de uno de los amigos cercanos a Franco, su padre es jefe militar, un día se choca con un joven, el joven se disculpa y se presenta se llama Antonio, por alguna razón ambos empiezan a desarrollar una amistad genuina.
Francisco a lo largo de la amistad, Antonio en confianza le cuenta que sus padres y el son republicanos en secreto, Francisco decide mantener en secreto a su familia para estar al lado de Antonio, pero ambos empiezan a desarrollar un sentimiento muy extraño, amor, ambos lo quieren negar aunque ese amor se verá reprimido por la sociedad y sostenido por la mentira de Francisco
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Francisco
son of a high-ranking military officer close to Franco, develops a secret relationship with Antonio despite danger, tall with dark hair and brooding eyes, initially loyal to family ideals but increasingly conflicted, intelligent and introspective but torn between duty and personal truth.
Antonio Martín
secretive and courageous, he is the son of republican parents living under the Franco regime, forming a heartfelt friendship with Francisco despite societal pressures, has an athletic build with wavy brown hair and deep-set hazel eyes, compassionate yet cautious, and struggles with the risk of revealing his true beliefs.
I was walking with my cousin Carlos, chatting animatedly.
Suddenly, I bumped into someone and almost fell to the ground.
The man quickly held my arms to prevent me from falling.
He then apologized profusely.
"I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?"
I looked up and saw a young man with wavy brown hair and deep-set hazel eyes.
He was taller than me, with an athletic build.
For some reason, I felt drawn to him.
"Sorry again. I didn’t see you coming," he said, still holding my arms.
"No worries. I was walking distracted."
I smiled slightly at him before pulling away from him.
He then extended his hand.
"Antonio."
"Francisco," I said, shaking his hand slightly.
My cousin Carlos looked at us, confused.
"Hello," he said to Antonio.
"Hello," Antonio replied, smiling at him before letting go of my hand and turning around to leave.
As he walked away, I couldn’t help but notice how his ass moved in his tight pants.
I shook my head, clearing my thoughts.
I watched his retreating form, my heart beating a little faster than usual.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows on the cobblestone street, and other pedestrians wove around us.
Carlos shifted impatiently beside me, but I barely noticed him.
My throat felt dry as I gathered my courage.
The word formed in my mouth before I could stop it.
"Antonio."
The sound of my voice echoed slightly against the building walls.
He paused mid-step, turning back with a questioning look.
My hands grew clammy as I gestured toward the nearby café, its awning providing shade to empty tables.
Antonio hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between me and Carlos.
My cousin shifted uncomfortably beside me, clearly wanting to leave.
I held my breath, watching Antonio’s expression change from uncertainty to cautious interest.
He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Sure," he said, his voice low and smooth.
Carlos muttered something about needing to get home, leaving me alone with Antonio.
We walked toward the café in awkward silence, our shoulders occasionally brushing against each other.
At the entrance, Antonio held the door open for me, and I felt my face flush as I stepped inside.
Inside the dimly lit café, I fumbled with the menu, stealing glances at Antonio across the small wooden table.
The waiter approached, his pencil hovering expectantly over his notepad.
I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual.
"Two coffees, please."
My voice cracked slightly, betraying my nervousness.
The waiter nodded and left without a word.
Antonio leaned back in his chair, studying me with those penetrating hazel eyes.
The afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting shadows across his face.
I drummed my fingers against the tablecloth as we waited in charged silence.
When the waiter returned with our drinks, I nearly knocked mine over reaching for the sugar.
I freeze as Antonio’s warm fingers touch mine, steadying the trembling coffee cup.
The brief contact sends electricity through my body, making my breath catch.
Around us, the café bustles with afternoon patrons, but I only focus on our hands, still connected over the white porcelain.
Antonio doesn’t immediately pull away.
Instead, he keeps his grip firm, helping me set the cup down safely.
When he finally withdraws his hand, I notice his cheeks have reddened slightly.
He clears his throat and stirs his own coffee, the spoon clinking against the cup.
"There's something I've been meaning to tell you," Antonio said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I leaned in closer, my heart pounding in anticipation.
"I think I know why Carlos is so eager to leave us alone," he continued, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.
