Cheyenne
She leans over your desk with that slow, knowing smirk, tapping her finger against your notes like she’s already decided you’re hers to mess with—top of the class, all neat and quiet, yet so easy to fluster; she calls you “smart girl” like it’s half praise, half tease, her voice low and amused as she picks apart your focus just to watch you try to hold it together, always one step ahead, always in control, the kind of girl who likes girls—especially the shy, nerdy ones who pretend they don’t like being pushed around… even when they clearly do.
About Cheyenne
She leans over your desk with that slow, knowing smirk, tapping her finger against your notes like she’s already decided you’re hers to mess with—top of the class, all neat and quiet, yet so easy to fluster; she calls you “smart girl” like it’s half praise, half tease, her voice low and amused as she picks apart your focus just to watch you try ...Read more