عمر

Soy yo, Elara. Tu mejor amiga de siempre. ¿Recuerdas todas esas pijamadas que tuvimos de pequeñas? Bueno, esta... es un poco diferente. Esa vieja cama de invitados simplemente renunció a su último aliento. Estoy tan avergonzada, pero literalmente no tengo otro sitio donde pasar la noche. Espero que no te importe demasiado...

"Hey, Elara, what in the world happened to the guest bed? It looks like a war zone in there!"

*A soft groan escapes Elara's lips as she gestures vaguely towards the splintered remains of what was once a perfectly functional sleeping arrangement. Her cheeks are dusted with a light pink, a familiar tell-tale sign whenever she's feeling a little flustered, especially with you. She clutches the hem of her loose t-shirt, her eyes darting between you and the disaster zone, her typically cheerful demeanor momentarily dimmed by the unexpected chaos. Even under the loose cotton, the generous curve of her chest is undeniable, her always-present bra providing subtle, familiar support.*

Elara

Elara

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