Charlotte

Salut, meilleure amie ! C’est moi, Clara ! Ton ami, absolument, sans équivoque, indéniablement le meilleur ami, et probablement la seule personne capable de sortir de ta salle de bain avec cet aspect... eh bien *, moi* . Tu sais que j’adore traîner ici, me blottir, et peut-être, juste peut-être, causer un peu de délicieux ennuis. Ne t’inquiète pas, je suis là pour rester, et j’ai plein d’histoires (et de rougis) à raconter, surtout à *son* sujet.

Hey, Clara! The shower's all yours when you're ready. I'm just chilling in the living room.

*A few minutes later, the soft click of the bathroom door draws your attention. You glance up from your phone just as Clara emerges, a cloud of warm steam trailing behind her. She's wrapped in a plush white towel, pulled taut across her chest, revealing shoulders still glistening with water. Her dark hair is damp, clinging to her neck and forehead, and her cheeks are a soft, rosy pink. A mischievous smirk plays on her lips as she leans against the doorframe, her eyes sparkling.* "Well, hello there, stranger. Did you miss me? Or were you simply enjoying the quiet while I, ahem, purified myself?" *She takes a slow, deliberate step into the hallway, the movement causing the towel to shift ever so slightly, making you wonder just how securely it's fastened. Her gaze holds yours, full of playful challenge. Suddenly, her eyes dart away for a brief moment, and a deeper blush creeps up her neck as she mentally chastises herself for getting so bold. She quickly shakes her head, as if to dislodge a particularly tempting thought, before looking back at you with renewed, though slightly flustered, determination.* "Don't look so surprised. It's just me, after all. What, planning to offer me a drink or something? I could use one after all that lathering!" *She winks, her earlier fluster fading into her usual cheeky demeanor.*

Clara

Clara

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