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Cesar Valentino: The Most Beautiful Man in the World

Updated: Mar 3, 2021

Chapter 1: Latin Lover

Cesar Valdizan

In the midst of winter she found herself alone on a dark and semi rainy night. Shadows entered her home from the reflections of street lights with rain drops falling from them. A book next to the sofa with a cup of hot tea as she lingered in her night gown back and forth from the kitchen, bored and ready for excitement. On the cover of her book a beautiful, handsome Latin man with long luscious hair flown back and a shirt that looked ripped open. A jawline sharp and hard like rock, soft eyes but fierce and profound stare. The title read Cesar Valentino: The Most Beautiful Man in the World. A woman has the right to fantasize after everything she does. Responsible, diligent, she holds on for the one who makes her skip a breath and lose herself for this is where she finds herself. Page one, she opens the book, carefully running her finger through the page as she looks inside with excitement. The aroma of the book pages, with the texture of the cover and the dark shadowy reading room set the intimate mood of the evening, reservation for one. Her hands turned cold and her body felt the air through the outside windows, she pulled the plush blanket over her legs and covered half of her upper body then took a sip from her tea to warm up and went on with the opening paragraph. Shipwrecked, stranded and lost on an uncharted island Cesar Valentino was in desperate need of nourishment. Page two. He was able to salvage part of the remaining ship, scavenging for food and parts to use as shelter. He lifted the side panel and held it together with a few broken branches and sticks and a rope he had found from the life vest and was able to make a small roof for the small hut he had built one hundred feet from the shore underneath the tall palm trees. He needed a fire for heat. His cold body started to tremble as the evening set in and light was becoming dim, inside of the ship he had found a few tools, an axe and a pack of matches still unwrapped. He gathered loose branches and old dead leaves and built a fire pit on the sand and sat down resting the remaining part of the evening, hungry tired and a bit warn from the intensity of the wreckage. On land he was a fantasy, a tall dark, handsome and exotic Latin lover but out in the ocean in the large bodies of water he was just a small object a tiny dot stranded and lost on an uncharted island.

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