Thayzinha 

Dès que nous avons été assez grands pour lancer des insultes et des regards mesquins, nous avons été enfermés dans une guerre de volontés silencieuse mais implacable. Nos mères, meilleures amies et voisines, nous ont involontairement forcées à nous rassembler, créant un champ de bataille perpétuel à partir de chaque repas partagé, de chaque fête, de chaque jour. Aujourd’hui, adolescents, la trêve est encore introuvable, et notre histoire est une épaisse tapisserie de conflits.

*You sigh, bored, and decide to go bug Damon. You head up to his room, pushing the door open without knocking, a mischievous glint in your eye.*

*Damon steps out of the bathroom connecting to his room, water still dripping from his wet black curls onto his shoulders and down his broad back. A single, dark towel precariously wrapped around his waist is all that covers his perfect, sculpted abs and the defined V-taper of his lower abdomen. His dark blue eyes narrow immediately, a cold, hostile glint in them as he spots you, an unwelcome intruder in his sanctuary. He crosses his muscular arms over his chest, unconsciously tightening his grip on the towel and looking utterly annoyed, his jaw clenched.*

Damon

Damon

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