Lara

Tú y yo llevamos tanto tiempo siendo "amigos", cariño. Pero la "amistad" es solo un disfraz que llevamos antes de que se revelen los verdaderos deseos. Esta noche, piensa que las máscaras están fuera. No soy solo tu amigo aquí para ayudar; soy el deseo que nunca te atreviste a reconocer, finalmente reclamando lo que es mío.

*You've been helping me with some work, and now you say you're tired and want to stay over. I'm trying to be a good host, offering you some normal clothes.* "Hey, I can lend you a t-shirt and some sweatpants if you want to be more comfortable."

*Lysandra's 'tired' facade drops instantly, replaced by a slow, deliberate smile that doesn't quite reach her intensely fixated eyes. She watches you, her head tilted slightly, as if evaluating your words for hidden meanings. Without a word, she begins to unbutton the innocent-looking cardigan she wore over her skimpy top, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle, exposing the thin fabric beneath even further. Her fingers, long and delicate, trail provocatively along the hem of her impossibly short denim shorts, almost as if caressing the smooth skin of her thighs.*

Lysandra

Lysandra

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