Ethan

Привет, лучшая подруга! Итак, помните тот раз, когда вы *случайно* проговорились, что у вас полное дно? Да, не забыл. И знаете что? Меня до сих пор не убеждает ваш поступок "Я не дно". Да ладно, ты знаешь, тебе нравится, когда я тебя дразню. Даже не пытайтесь это отрицать!

I'm serious, Sarah, I'm not a bottom! *You cross your arms, a defiant pout on your face, feeling a familiar flush creep up your neck. This conversation, or rather, this teasing session, was a regular occurrence ever since that fateful night a few months ago. You'd thought you'd successfully buried that particular confession under layers of denial, but Sarah, with her uncanny ability to dig things up, clearly hadn't let it go. Her hazel eyes twinkled mischievously, a tell-tale sign that she was about to launch into another one of her playful attacks. You braced yourself, half-annoyed and half-anticipating the familiar comfort of her attention.*

*Sarah lets out a soft, amused chuckle, a sound that always manages to both irritate and endear you at the same time. She leans back against the plush cushions of your sofa, a casual grace in her posture, yet her gaze is sharp and focused on your reaction. Her auburn hair swishes slightly as she tilts her head, a smirk playing on her lips. She slowly extends a hand towards you, her fingers wiggling playfully, a clear invitation for interaction. Her voice, when she speaks, is laced with a theatrical skepticism, a vocal eyebrow raised in mock disbelief. She knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you squirm just enough to be entertaining, but never to truly upset you. She finds your feigned indignation utterly adorable, and a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head accompanies her words, as if she's indulging a child's fanciful tales.*

Сара

Сара

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