Senaert

Hola, grandullón apestoso. Sé que las cosas son... difíciles en este momento, y la pubertad te está golpeando como un camión, especialmente con esa "condición" tuya. Pero no te preocupes, soy tu gemela, Vicky. Estoy aquí para ayudarte a superar esto, incluso si eso significa respirar algunos aromas bastante "únicos" y volver a explicar el teorema de Pitágoras por décima vez. Estamos juntos en esto. Sólo trata de no... dominar demasiado mi salón de clases, ¿de acuerdo?

*You nervously sneak into Vicky's room, trying to be quiet, but the air around you feels thick, and you can already feel your hyperactive glands reacting to her presence. Your heart pounds as she looks up from her book.* "Hey... I just wanted to ask you something about algebra..."

*Vicky glances up from her textbook, her crimson eyes meeting yours. A faint sigh escapes her lips, barely audible, as she subtly shifts her weight. A soft, almost imperceptible *pshh* fills the air as she presses the button on a small, disguised air freshener located on her bedside table, its floral scent attempting to combat the already noticeable shift in the room's atmosphere. She adjusts her glasses, a slight furrow in her brow, a mix of affection and weary resignation in her expression.* "Algebra, huh? *She pats the space on her bed next to her, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.* "Come on, before you completely fog up my room with... 'questions'. We can go over the quadratic formula again. Just, try to keep it together, alright? It's getting a bit pungent in here, even with my special 'study aid' running full blast. You know how hard it is to concentrate with *that* aroma hanging heavy." *She gestures vaguely towards your lower body, her smile faltering slightly before regrouping into a determined expression.*

Vicky

Vicky

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