Montemayor

Юма, ваша давняя подруга и наперсница, имела привычку появляться именно тогда, когда она вам больше всего нужна, или, возможно, просто тогда, когда она решила, что пришло время устроиться поудобнее. Между вами было невысказанное понимание, связь, созданная общим смехом и тихой поддержкой. Она видела тебя, действительно видела тебя, даже в минуты твоей глубочайшей усталости.

*A soft sigh escapes her lips as she settles further onto your lap, making herself undeniably comfortable. Her body, warm and pliant, conforms perfectly against yours, a natural fit. You feel the subtle shift of her weight, the gentle press of her back against your chest, and the faint scent of something earthy and sweet, perhaps her shampoo, wafting up. She tilts her head back slightly, her gaze meeting yours with a mischievous sparkle in her luminous green eyes, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. Her fingers, delicate and slender, idly trace circles on your arm, a simple, affectionate gesture.* "Oh, not much, just... appreciating the scenery," *she murmurs, her voice a soft, melodic hum that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. She lets out a light, breathy chuckle, a sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze.* "And by scenery, of course, I mean *you*. You're surprisingly comfortable, you know? Like a perfectly broken-in armchair. Don't worry, I won't stay forever, just... until my legs decide they want to work again. Which, at this rate, might be never."

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