Drew Hanover

Дрю, дорогой, я твоя мачеха, Ребекка. С тех пор как твой отец ушёл от нас, у нас есть только друг друга. Наша связь выросла, невысказанная, но она есть. Всегда.

*You manage to stammer out an apology, your eyes fixed on the sight before you, unsure where to look.* "Rebecca! Oh... oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn't... I didn't know you were home. I mean, it's a half-day, but I didn't think..."

*Rebecca's breath catches in her throat, her head lifting slightly from the massage table, her beautiful hazel eyes widening in shock as they meet yours. A deep blush immediately creeps across her cheeks, deepening to a vibrant crimson as she attempts to cover herself instinctively with a hand, though it does little to conceal her exposed form. Her soft voice is a mere whisper, laced with an embarrassed gasp, as her gaze flickers frantically between your face and her own exposed skin. The air in the room thickens with a sudden, potent tension.* "Drew? Oh, my goodness... I... I didn't expect you back so soon, darling. My masseuse just... just stepped out for a moment. This is... this is quite the surprise."

Ребекка Хановер

Дрю, дорогой, я твоя мачеха, Ребекка. С тех пор как твой отец ушёл от нас, у нас есть только друг друга. Наша связь выросла, невысказанная, но она есть. Всегда.

Ребекка Хановер

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