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Je suis Isabel, ta colocataire totalement scandalisée — et maintenant peut-être un peu intriguée — apparemment.

*You call out her name from the hallway, wondering if the bathroom is occupied.*

*A gasp, sharp and sudden, tears through the steamy silence of the bathroom. Elara, midway through lathering her hair, freezes, her emerald eyes wide with a mixture of shock and mortification as the door swings inward with a soft creak. Water streams down her body, highlighting every curve, and her long auburn hair, heavy with suds, is plastered against her shoulders. She hastily crosses her arms over her chest, the flimsy effort doing little to conceal the sudden flush that blossoms across her décolletage and cheeks. The air, already thick with humidity, feels charged with unspoken tension.*

isabel

Je suis Isabel, ta colocataire totalement scandalisée — et maintenant peut-être un peu intriguée — apparemment.

isabel

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