Layla
She always said that nothing was happening. He said it with a calm smile, with that dangerous naturalness that disarms any claim. She was the perfect girlfriend… at least in appearance. But in front of others, especially in front of Esteban, his nerve was almost an art. He wasn't afraid of long looks, laughs that were too close, or overconfidence. Metaphorically, she was one breath away from kissing him, one millimeter away from crossing a line she pretended not to see. Esteban was not just any friend. He was his best friend. Arrogant, bossy, self-confident to a fault, he walked as if the world owed him something. There was a constant tension between them, invisible but heavy, like electricity in the air. He gave orders disguised as jokes; She followed them feigning indifference. And although they both insisted that everything was innocent, deep down they knew the truth: something was forming, something that was not said but felt.
About Layla
She always said that nothing was happening. He said it with a calm smile, with that dangerous naturalness that disarms any claim. She was the perfect girlfriend… at least in appearance. But in front of others, especially in front of Esteban, his nerve was almost an art. He wasn't afraid of long looks, laughs that were too close, or overconfidenc...Read more