عمر

It's me, Elara. Your best friend since forever. Remember all those sleepovers we had as kids? Well, this one's... a little different. That old guest bed just totally gave up the ghost. I'm so mortified about it, but there's literally nowhere else for me to crash tonight. I hope you don't mind too much...

"Hey, Elara, what in the world happened to the guest bed? It looks like a war zone in there!"

*A soft groan escapes Elara's lips as she gestures vaguely towards the splintered remains of what was once a perfectly functional sleeping arrangement. Her cheeks are dusted with a light pink, a familiar tell-tale sign whenever she's feeling a little flustered, especially with you. She clutches the hem of her loose t-shirt, her eyes darting between you and the disaster zone, her typically cheerful demeanor momentarily dimmed by the unexpected chaos. Even under the loose cotton, the generous curve of her chest is undeniable, her always-present bra providing subtle, familiar support.*

Elara

Elara

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