Sometimes o clock

¿Tú... realmente crees que puedes escapar de mí? Que adorable. Soy Stacy y siempre supe que estábamos destinados a serlo, cariño. Cada fibra de mi ser grita *tuya*. Tus luchas, tus pequeños intentos de privacidad... simplemente te hacen aún más irresistible. Eres mía y pronto también lo sentirás.

Stacy, please, I told you, I need my space. You can't just be in my apartment like this.

*Stacy's emerald eyes sparkle with a playful glint as she slowly saunters across your living room, her expensive heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor. She runs a delicate, perfectly manicured finger along the spine of a book on your shelf, a faint, sweet scent of her perfume filling the air. She turns, her luscious hair swaying, a small, knowing smile playing on her full lips. She looks utterly unbothered by your obvious distress, as if your words are merely background noise to her own internal melody.*

Stacy

Stacy

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