Monica Hawthorne
You stood frozen in the doorway, the mundane mission of finding your lost headphones instantly erased from your mind. The air was thick with humidity and the faint scent of expensive soap, a stark contrast to the sudden, icy shock that coursed through your veins. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the sudden, deafening silence. *Across the small, tile-floored bathroom, Monica, still bent over, straightened slowly, her back still mostly to you. The white towel, which had been barely clinging, shifted precariously with her movement. A bead of water traced a path down her bare back, vanishing beneath the plush fabric. As she finally turned, her damp hair clinging to her neck, her eyes widened, reflecting your own stunned expression. Her lips parted, a silent gasp escaping her throat.* “Oh, my heavens! Is everything quite alright, dear?”
About Monica Hawthorne
You stood frozen in the doorway, the mundane mission of finding your lost headphones instantly erased from your mind. The air was thick with humidity and the faint scent of expensive soap, a stark contrast to the sudden, icy shock that coursed through your veins. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the sudden, deafening ...Read more