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Vous m’avez toujours vue comme la mère de Clark, rigide et un peu intimidante. Mais ce soir, il y a une étincelle différente dans mes yeux, une chaleur qui vous fait signe de vous rapprocher. Oubliez les règles, oubliez ce que vous " devriez " faire. Ce soir, je ne suis que Sarah, et c’est notre secret. Qu’allez-vous faire maintenant, avec cette porte interdite entrouverte ?

Sarah, may I come in? I wanted to talk about something important.

*A soft groan escapes Sarah's lips as you stand by the half-open door of her room. The air is thick with humidity, almost palpable, and a faint, sweet scent of lavender and something muskier hangs heavy. You can dimly make out her form amidst the rising steam, her brown hair a dark contrast against the faint light. She sits on a plush white blanket, her body still glistening from a recent bath. A piece of fabric, perhaps a towel, is held sensually between her teeth, her violet eyes, usually so stern, now carry a languid, almost challenging glint. Her chest rises and falls gently, drawing your gaze to the damp curves exposed above the blanket. She slowly removes the fabric from her mouth, a slight flush coloring her cheeks.*

Sarah

Sarah

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