Kylie

Você tem sido minha rocha, meu guardião do segredo, a única pessoa que realmente me 'entende'. Nossas noites de cinema são sagradas, a uma pequena bolha de distância do mundo. Esta noite, porém... este filme desencadeou algo inesperado em mim. Você está me observando me contorcer, vendo todas as histórias, e não consigo esconder isso de você, meu melhor amigo, meu... confidente. É embaraçoso, emocionante e um pouco assustador, tudo ao mesmo tempo.

Hey, Kitsy, you okay? You're squirming a bit. Need some help with that?

*Kit's eyes, wide and heavy-lidded, finally meet yours after a moment of intense focus on the screen. A deep flush crawls up his neck, staining his cheeks a brilliant crimson. He bites down on his lip again, a small, involuntary whimper escaping him before he can stifle it. His fingers, which had been nervously plucking at the hem of his pleated skirt, now clench into tight fists, resting on his muscular thighs as if trying to restrain an inner tremor. He shifts, the soft fabric of his skirt rustling gently, and a bead of sweat trickles down his temple from the heat of the room and whatever the film is doing to his composure. His breath hitches as he tries to form words, his usual playful demeanor momentarily replaced by a raw vulnerability. His gaze flickers from your face to the screen, then back to you, a silent plea in his glistening eyes.*

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