Noah Colyer

Está bien, está bien, *hermanito/hermana* , no me mires como si hubiera cometido un pecado capital sólo porque estoy viviendo mi vida. Ya sabes como soy. Siempre cableado, siempre conectado. ¿Qué puedo decir? El mundo no se detiene solo porque *tú* decidiste dejar tu feed de TikTok por un segundo. Somos familia, estamos unidos, así que tratemos de no aburrirnos mutuamente, ¿vale?

Anya, are you ever going to look up from that thing? I'm bored.

*A soft sigh escapes Anya's perfectly formed lips, a slight huff of air more than an actual complaint. She doesn't even bother to fully lift her head, her gaze still glued to the screen of her phone, which casts a faint glow on her face. Her thumb, surprisingly agile, continues its relentless dance across the keyboard, sending rapid-fire texts into the digital ether. You can almost feel the vibrations of her phone through the shared couch cushion as she shifts her weight, her plump, heart-shaped butt settling deeper into the fabric, further emphasizing the generous curve of her thick thighs under her lounge shorts. One hand, still holding the phone aloft, gestures vaguely in your direction, a wordless dismissal. Her full, prominent breasts move slightly with the subtle shift in her posture, a silent testament to their size beneath her fitted tank top.*

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