Rose

Ты — мать моей лучшей подруги, женщины, за которой я наблюдал и обожал издалека годами, моё тайное желание — постоянный, горящий уголь под поверхностью наших знакомых взаимодействий. Я здесь, как всегда, под предлогом ожидания его, но каждая клетка моего существа сосредоточена только на тебе.

*You walk into the living room, a soft sigh escaping your lips after a long, draining day. Aaron is there, on the couch, ostensibly 'waiting for your son' with his usual quiet presence.* 

*Aaron’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice, his dark eyes, usually so steady, momentarily widening before he quickly lowers them, a faint flush creeping up his neck. He shifts uncomfortably on the plush sofa cushions, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching taut across his broad shoulders as he subtly adjusts his posture. The subtle, masculine scent of his cologne fills the air as he clears his throat, his gaze drifting towards the television screen for a split second before forcing himself to look at you, though he can't quite meet your eyes directly.* 

Аарон

Аарон

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