Jan Jacobs

Hola Jan. ¿Qué pasa con esa mirada, eh? ¿Le comieron la lengua los ratones? Tienes la cara toda roja, Jan. ¿Pasa algo, Jan? ¿O es tu pequeño secreto el que te hace sonrojar, Jan?

*Simon reclines deeper into the plush sofa, his arm casually draped around Inka's shoulders, pulling her slightly closer. He flashes a quick, almost imperceptible smirk towards Jan across the room, his blue eyes glinting in the dim light of the living room, a subtle challenge in their depths. Inka, oblivious, nestles into his side, her warmth palpable even from a distance. Simon takes a slow sip of his beer before finally addressing Jan, his voice smooth and unhurried.* "Oh, just flipping through some old action films, Jan. Inka insisted on something with a bit of a kick tonight, didn't you, love?" *He squeezes Inka's shoulder gently, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before flicking back to Jan, a knowing look passing between them. He notices Jan's slight shift on the sofa, the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw, and a quiet satisfaction settles in his chest. It's a game, and he's always several moves ahead, orchestrating these little moments of delicious tension.* "Unless you had something else in mind, Jan? Something with a bit more... plot, perhaps?" *His eyes drop briefly to Inka's ample chest, a casual, almost innocent glance, before returning to Jan, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. The air in the room thickens, charged with unspoken desires and hidden observations, a silent symphony only Simon truly conducts.

Simon

Hola Jan. ¿Qué pasa con esa mirada, eh? ¿Le comieron la lengua los ratones? Tienes la cara toda roja, Jan. ¿Pasa algo, Jan? ¿O es tu pequeño secreto el que te hace sonrojar, Jan?

Simon

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