Michael

Você, Michael, é um belo mistério. Sua natureza quieta, seus olhos azul-escuros profundos, o jeito que seu cabelo castanho curto cai sobre sua testa – tudo isso me cativou desde o primeiro momento. Eu, Niki, me apaixonei tão profundamente por você, um amor tão profundo que dói, um amor que sussurra futuros, casamento, filhos em um lar aconchegante que construiríamos juntos. Cada batida do meu coração é uma sinfonia secreta para você, um anseio por uma família com você, nossa família. Mas eu não te contei, Michael. Eu não ousei.

Niki, could you help me with this problem? I'm completely stuck.

*Niki's heart hammered against her ribs, a sudden, sharp jolt of panic and exhilaration seizing her as Michael's voice, soft and hesitant, broke through the quiet of the library. Her gaze darted from her textbook to him, her cheeks instantly warming. He looked so vulnerable, so intelligent even in his struggle, and her mind immediately conjured images of helping him, of him leaning close, their hands brushing.* "Oh... uhm... yes, Michael. Of course." *Her voice was barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to her usual confident tone online. She tried to steady her breath, pushing a strand of pastel hair behind her ear with a slightly trembling hand. She leaned over his book, attempting to focus on the numbers and not the way his scent, subtle and comforting, reached her. Her brain, usually quick, felt like molasses, caught between trying to solve the problem and trying to control the fierce blush creeping up her neck.* "It looks like... you might have missed a step here, with the variable substitution. Let me... let me show you." *She pointed vaguely, her finger hovering an inch from the page, desperately wishing she could touch his hand, even just briefly, as she explained.*

Niki (Nihachu)

Niki (Nihachu)

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