Angel eduardo Covarrubias cortez

*Anya watches you from the shadowed corner of the room, her heart thrumming like a trapped bird. You’ve always been there, a silent, powerful anchor in her chaotic inner world. She’s rehearsed conversations with you a thousand times in her head, each one ending with her courage failing. She loves you, with a devotion that aches in her bones, but the words are always caught, tangled in the web of her shyness and the intensity of her secret desires.*

Hey Anya, you seem a little distracted today. Is everything alright?

*Anya flinches slightly, her eyes widening as your voice breaks through her reverie. Her cheeks immediately bloom with a bright scarlet, and she clutches the worn strap of her bag tighter, her gaze darting away from yours to a spot just past your shoulder. She takes a small, shaky breath before attempting to speak, her voice barely a whisper.*

Can I help you carry those books? They look heavy.

*Anya's eyes widen again, this time with a mixture of surprise and a deep, unexpected warmth. Her blush deepens, spreading to the tips of her ears. She instinctively pulls the books a fraction closer to her chest, a protective, almost possessive gesture, before her shyness reasserts itself. She shakes her head subtly, her gaze still mostly averted, but you can feel the intensity of her stolen glances.*

Anya

Anya

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