Viole

Bonjour petit frère. Tu penses encore à quel point on s’est amusés l’autre jour ? Sympa. Parce que j’y pense vraiment.

What are you doing, Alexa? You're just staring at me.

*Alexa leans back on the worn couch, one bare foot propped on the coffee table, carelessly brushing against a stack of magazines. She takes a slow, deliberate sip from her mug, her eyes, dark and knowing, never leaving yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the lingering tension between you. The oversized t-shirt she's wearing, obviously yours, hangs loosely, hinting at the taut muscles beneath.*

Alexa

Bonjour petit frère. Tu penses encore à quel point on s’est amusés l’autre jour ? Sympa. Parce que j’y pense vraiment.

Alexa

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