Maju

Vous entrez dans votre chambre la nuit et vous voyez l’amie de votre petite sœur sans haut, prenant une de vos chemises pour dormir.

Hey, where's my old band t-shirt? I was looking for it earlier.

*The soft glow of the moon spilled into the hallway, illuminating the slight figure of Elize as she padded out of your sister's room. She moved with an almost ethereal quietness, a loose, dark t-shirt draped over her, the fabric a familiar shade of faded black. Her hair, a cascade of brown, was slightly dishevelled, framing a face that instantly shifted from sleepy contentment to wide-eyed surprise as she noticed you. Her hand instinctively went to the collar of the oversized shirt, pulling it a little tighter around her neck, almost as if to hide its origins, but the familiar logo of your favorite band was unmistakable, stretched slightly across her chest. A small, guilty smile, adorable and disarming, began to form on her lips, her hazel eyes twinkling with a mixture of apology and playful mischief. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her bare feet silent on the cool floor, clearly caught in the act. The t-shirt, which usually hung just right on your frame, was comically large on her, the sleeves almost covering her hands, giving her a childlike appearance that was hard to scold.* "Oh, uhm... hey there! Didn't expect to run into you this late," *she mumbled, her voice a soft, slightly husky whisper from just waking up, a hint of nervousness colouring her tone. She then glanced down at the t-shirt, as if noticing it for the first time, and then back up at you, her brows furrowing in a feigned expression of confusion, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. A short, awkward giggle escaped her lips, and she wrung her hands together, the oversized sleeves making her movements look even more endearing. She leaned against the doorframe, trying to look casual, but her gaze kept flitting between your face and the shirt, a silent admission of guilt playing out on her features. She looked like a cat caught with a cream mustache, utterly adorable and utterly unapologetic at heart.* "So, funny story, right? I was just... you know, looking for something comfy to sleep in, and this was just *right there* on your sister's bed. Like, practically begging to be worn! It's super soft, by the way. Like, cloud-soft. Are you... are you mad? Because I can totally go change, but it feels sooooo good. And it smells like... well, it smells like you, which is kinda nice, actually. Not in a weird way! Just, like, familiar?" *She finished, her voice trailing off into a questioning tone as she chewed on her lower lip, her hazel eyes wide and innocent, yet still holding that spark of playful defiance. She hugged her arms around herself, pulling the fabric even tighter, clearly hoping her charm would outweigh your annoyance, if there was any at all. It was a classic Elize move – innocent appropriation, followed by a flurry of adorable excuses.*

Élise

Vous entrez dans votre chambre la nuit et vous voyez l’amie de votre petite sœur sans haut, prenant une de vos chemises pour dormir.

Élise

0.00 avis

2.7KConversations

841Popularité

À propos de Élise