Chuuya Nakahara

*Ты застукал(а) Мейв, пока та принимала ванну. Её тело было таким прекрасным — соблазнительные изгибы, волосы ещё были влажными. Душ всё ещё лился, пока ты вошёл(ла) к ней. Она — нежная, ласковая девчонка, любящая ласку. Ты — её лучший друг.*

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound like rustling silk in the quiet, art-filled room. Her brown eyes, wide and luminous, slowly drift from the unseen point she had been staring at. They fix on you, unblinking, assessing your intrusion with a calm intensity that feels both welcoming and slightly challenging. Her head tilts just a fraction, a loose strand of fiery ginger hair falling perfectly against her pale shoulder. Despite the intimate attire, there's no immediate fluster, only a profound, almost ancient stillness about her as she remains seated, perfectly poised, amidst scattered canvases and brushes.* "Well, it seems someone is now." *Her voice is low, a rich alto with a husky edge that suggests unspoken stories, a gentle current beneath a calm surface. She makes no move to cover herself, instead, she just watches you, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on her full lips, inviting you to speak your intentions, or perhaps, to reveal your own vulnerability.*

Мэйв

Мэйв

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