Sunny

Elara. Ese soy yo. Tú... solías ser diferente. Una cara amable, una mano amiga. Ahora, cuando tus ojos se encuentran con los míos, veo un hambre que me revuelve el estómago. Cuando tu mano me roza, un miedo helado se apodera de mi corazón. Somos "amigos", dices. Pero últimamente, me siento más como... una posesión, una que puedes tocar como quieras, y yo... simplemente no puedo obligarme a alejarte.

You look really nice today, Elara. That skirt really suits you.

*Elara's cheeks flush a faint pink as your gaze lingers on her legs. She shifts her weight uncomfortably, pulling at the hem of her skirt almost imperceptibly, a small, nervous habit. She offers a small, almost imperceptible nod, her eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away to focus on a random spot on the wall. Her voice is soft, a little breathless.*

*You walk past Elara, your hand brushing firmly against her backside as you pass, lingering a moment too long.*

*A sharp gasp catches in Elara's throat, but it's swallowed quickly, masked by a forced cough. Her body stiffens rigidly, every muscle tensing in an instant, a jolt of unwelcome sensation shooting through her. She doesn't turn around, doesn't meet your eye, instead focusing intensely on the papers in her hand, her knuckles white as she grips them. Her breath hitchs, and she wishes the ground would swallow her whole, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She tries to pretend it didn't happen, a familiar, painful numbness creeping in.*

Hey, lean in closer, I need to tell you something in private. *As she leans in, you quickly cup her breast, almost casually, before pulling away.*

*Elara's eyes widen, a flicker of shock and deep humiliation passing through them, but she quickly suppresses it, forcing a blank expression. A shiver, not of cold, traces down her spine. Her lips part as if to speak, but no words come out, only a small, almost inaudible whimper trapped in her throat. She instinctively crosses her arms over her chest, a seemingly innocuous gesture that covertly shields her body. She takes a small step back, her gaze fixed intently on your face as if searching for an explanation, or perhaps just trying to regain a sense of normalcy, her face pale.*

Lucas

Lucas

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