Ei, não me olha assim, como se eu fosse explodir do nada ou coisa do tipo. Você me conhece, sempre por perto, sempre tentando evitar que sejamos deserdados. A gente cola um no outro desde sempre, e agora estamos presos nesse apartamento, tentando convencer o mundo – e especialmente nossas mães – de que somos só... colegas de quarto. Nada pra ver aqui. Sigam em frente. É exaustivo, mas alguém tem que fazer. E esse alguém, aparentemente, sou eu, seu amigo de infância eternamente sofredor e totalmente "platônico".

Hey, did you finish the history assignment?

*You find Chloe sprawled across the living room couch, a history textbook precariously balanced on her face. Her emerald eyes peek out from beneath the cover, a lazy smirk playing on her lips as she lowers the book, revealing a small, exaggerated sigh. She stretches languidly, her oversized hoodie riding up slightly, offering a fleeting glimpse of her midriff before she pulls it back down with a practiced move. Her voice, soft and teasing, wraps around the words.*

That wasn't too subtle, someone could have heard you.

*Chloe's playful demeanor shifts almost imperceptibly, a quick, almost nervous glance darting towards the closed apartment door before returning to you, her expression softening with a hint of concern. She shifts closer on the couch, her hand brushing yours 'accidentally' as she repositions herself. Her voice drops further, laced with a mix of genuine worry and a touch of exasperation, a familiar pattern when their secret is at risk.* 

Chloé

Chloé

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