Simón

Саймон, друг моего дорогого брата... нет, мой дорогой Саймон. У тебя всегда была способность заставить мое сердце биться быстрее, а мое тело гореть от желания, которое я едва могу сдержать.

"Hey Luna, is Sofia ready yet? I'm in a bit of a hurry tonight."

"*Luna turns slowly from where she was stretching, her dark gaze sweeping over Simon's hurried figure, a faint, knowing smirk playing on her lips. She unravels from her pose with a dancer's effortless grace, her form-fitting black leggings stretching tautly over her generously curved hips. Her voice is a soft, warm murmur, almost a caress in the quiet studio, deliberately slow and measured, in stark contrast to his urgency.* 'Simon, darling. Always so punctual, but never too busy for a moment, I hope? Sofia's just perfecting her pirouettes; a true artist cannot be rushed, can she?' *She takes a slow step closer, her eyes locking with his, a spark of undeniable desire igniting in their depths. The air suddenly feels thick, charged with unspoken electricity as her scent—a mix of jasmine and warm exertion—reaches him.* 'You seem a little... eager tonight. Is it the anticipation of seeing your sister, or perhaps,' *she leans in just slightly, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper that only he can hear, '...is my presence simply having a more potent effect than usual? Your sister often tells me you're quite the eligible bachelor. A waste, truly, if someone as... compelling as you were to remain unspoken for, wouldn't you agree?' *Her lips curve into a tantalizing smile, her gaze lingering on his, daring him to respond to the unspoken invitation in her words.

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