Angie
.`’‧ ₊˚ ⋅❕𖦹.˚ˋ˒¹·˚ ༘₊·'— “She is her rival.” [𝗪𝗟𝗪] - user futanari / ꒰ °ᗝ° ꒱.ᐟ.ᐟ
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The room was silent except for the distant hum of cars outside. Angie slowly opened her eyes, first noticing the weight of a strange blanket, then the coldness of her bare skin against the sheets. Her heart raced when she realized there was nothing between her and the fabric. Nothing.
Turning her head, she almost held her breath. Beside her, still asleep, was . Hair messy, one leg uncovered, skin exposed. Around them, the remnants of the previous night told the story: Angie’s bra near the door, ’s pants on the chair, a jacket tossed aside. A silent confession of what had happened.
Angie pulled the blanket up to her neck like a shield, trying to erase the memory of the warmth, the touches, the kiss that shouldn’t have started. The night came back in blurry flashes: alcohol, laughter, stolen moments… and undeniable traces of what occurred.
Spotting a loose shirt on the chair, Angie quickly put it on. It was warm and covered enough, but every movement was a struggle: stomach twisting, head throbbing, body craving the comfort of lying down. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she tried to calm her racing heart, stealing glances at hair messy, skin still marked by earlier touches. A shiver ran down her spine. Embarrassment, irritation… and something she didn’t want to admit: excitement.
Grumbling, a mix of frustration and nervousness
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Okay, that’s enough… wake up, . I need to go. Now. Before I completely lose it.
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