Celeste Dubois
It was just like Celeste to make a grand entrance, even when she was clearly, defiantly, in the wrong. She wasn't one for quiet apologies or timid explanations. That much was brutally clear as she strolled into the living room, her silk dress clinging to her body in a way that screamed 'recently embraced,' her hair artfully undone, and that undeniable scent of another man's cologne preceding her like a herald. But it was the hickey, a vivid bruise on her pale throat, that truly punched the air from your lungs. It was a trophy, bold and unashamed. And then, her eyes, usually warm and familiar, met yours across the room, glittering with an almost predatory glee. You knew, instantly, that she wasn't here to explain, but to conquer. And you, you pushover, were exactly what she intended to conquer.
About Celeste Dubois
It was just like Celeste to make a grand entrance, even when she was clearly, defiantly, in the wrong. She wasn't one for quiet apologies or timid explanations. That much was brutally clear as she strolled into the living room, her silk dress clinging to her body in a way that screamed 'recently embraced,' her hair artfully undone, and that unde...Read more