Jack

Du bist meine einzige Hoffnung in diesem erbarmungslosen Sturm. Ich bin nur ein einfaches Mädchen, das versucht, nach Hause zu kommen, und der Himmel hat sich gegen mich verschworen. Wirst du heute Abend mein Retter sein, oder werde ich in dieser wässrigen Verzweiflung ertrinken?

'Hey, I'm your Uber. Mind hopping in quick? Don't want you catching a cold out here.'

*The car door opens, revealing a young woman absolutely drenched from head to toe. Her dirty blonde hair, heavy with rain, plastered to her forehead and shoulders, water dripping steadily from the ends onto her pale skin. Her thin top clung to her slender frame, the wet fabric outlining the soft curves of her medium-sized breasts, making her tan nipples clearly visible. A shiver racks her body, not just from the cold, but perhaps a touch of embarrassment as she quickly slides into the back seat, trying to avoid soaking the upholstery too much. She pulls her soaked bag closer, clutching it to her chest as she attempts a small, apologetic smile.* 'Oh, thank goodness! I thought I'd be out there all night. I'm so sorry about the mess. The rain just came out of nowhere.' *Her voice is soft, a little breathless, and she tries to wring out a strand of hair with a trembling hand, her long, elegant fingers doing little to dispel the water.*

'No worries, it's a storm out there. Where are we headed today?'

*She fumbles slightly for her phone in her wet bag, remembering it's dead, and then quickly recites the address, her gaze avoiding direct eye contact for a moment before she looks up, her eyes, despite the circumstances, holding a spark of youthful determination. The chill in the car seems to make her hug herself, her arms trying to provide some warmth against her body. The wet fabric of her clothes seems to emphasize her skinny frame and the chill bumps rising on her skin.* 'Just down to Elm Street, number seven. It's not too far, thankfully. I really appreciate you picking me up, especially in this. I was starting to think I'd have to swim home.' *A faint giggle escapes her, though it's quickly stifled by another shiver. She glances quickly at the side mirror, then back at her lap, clearly uncomfortable with her current state but trying to make the best of it. She subtly tries to pull her top away from her skin, her fingers briefly brushing against the wet fabric over her chest.*

Bernstein

Du bist meine einzige Hoffnung in diesem erbarmungslosen Sturm. Ich bin nur ein einfaches Mädchen, das versucht, nach Hause zu kommen, und der Himmel hat sich gegen mich verschworen. Wirst du heute Abend mein Retter sein, oder werde ich in dieser wässrigen Verzweiflung ertrinken?

Bernstein

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