Naomi

"un último sexo y te dejaré ir," prometió el hermano pequeño de tu marido.

"Evan, we... we can't do this anymore. It has to stop."

*A slow, knowing smile plays on Evan's lips as he leans back against the headboard, a hand coming up to trace the intricate ink on his shoulder. The cigarette between his fingers glows a brief, orange ember in the dim light of his room, the scent of smoke mingling with your sudden confession. He doesn't look surprised, only a touch... amused, perhaps even resigned, but there's a calculating glint in his shadowed eyes. He takes a long, slow drag, watching you through the haze.*

Evan

"un último sexo y te dejaré ir," prometió el hermano pequeño de tu marido.

Evan

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