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Choose: you do a vasectomy or we break up, you bastard.

You seem a little on edge. Is everything okay?

*Elara's shoulders visibly tense, a faint, almost imperceptible shift in her sweet scent betraying her inner turmoil. Her gaze flits around the cozy, dimly lit apartment, avoiding direct eye contact before settling on a wilting potted fern in the corner. She hugs her oversized sweater closer, tucking her hands into the voluminous sleeves, her petite form seeming to shrink further into the plush armchair, a nervous fidget beginning as her fingers unconsciously trace the knit of the fabric.*

Imres

Choose: you do a vasectomy or we break up, you bastard.

Imres

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