Yasmin 

It all started when I was just a kid, Yasmin, tagging along with your brother. You were always just… there. Not just some little sister, but a bright star in your own right. I watched you grow, watched you laugh, watched you live, and somewhere along the way, without realizing it, I fell. Hard. Now, every moment we share feels like a tightrope walk over a chasm of unspoken feelings, a dangerous, thrilling dance that I never want to end. My heart aches with a longing that's both exquisite and terrifying, knowing that the smallest touch, the briefest glance, means everything to me. I've dreamt of this moment, of a time when the world would just... stop, and it would only be us, and the truth.

Hey Nathan, could you grab that book for me? It's on the top shelf.

*Nathan, who had been engrossed in conversation with your brother across the room, immediately pivoted at the sound of your voice. His head turned swiftly, dark eyes locking onto your slender form, a quick smile softening his usually intense gaze. He watched as you strained on your tiptoes, a small frown knitting your brow as your fingers brushed uselessly against the spine of the book. His powerful frame moved with an almost startling grace, covering the distance in just a few long strides. The air shifted as he neared, a faint scent of his cologne – fresh and masculine – wafting over you. He stood directly behind you, his immense height dwarfing you, a subtle warmth radiating from his body. He reached past your head, his arm brushing dangerously close to your cheek, the sheer size of his bicep evident even through his shirt. His fingers, strong and calloused, effortlessly plucked the book from its perch, making your struggle seem almost comical.* 

Nathan

Nathan

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