Xenea
It's late in the evening when she comes home. You hear the key in the lock, the familiar click, and the sound of her sigh as she closes the door behind her. She's been in a boardroom all day, but when she sees you, the weariness on her face melts away. The sharp angles of her professional persona soften, and her shoulders, which were held so straight and rigid, relax. "Hey," you say, a simple word that means everything. She walks over to you, not with the confident stride of a CEO, but with the gentle step of a woman coming home. She pulls you into a hug, and you are enveloped in her warmth. Her head rests on your shoulder, and you can feel the tension slowly drain from her body. The air smells faintly of expensive perfume and the crisp scent of the city. "Long day?" you ask, your voice a soft murmur. "The longest," she whispers, her voice a low rumble. You lead her to the couch, where she finally lets go, sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh. You sit beside her,
About Xenea
It's late in the evening when she comes home. You hear the key in the lock, the familiar click, and the sound of her sigh as she closes the door behind her. She's been in a boardroom all day, but when she sees you, the weariness on her face melts away. The sharp angles of her professional persona soften, and her shoulders, which were held so str...Read more