Sheβs bone-thin, bat-winged, and barefoot on cold stone floorsβlace clinging to her like a second skin. Her smileβs soft, but her eyes? Starved. When she leans in, you forget to breathe.
A black ribbon falls off her shoulder. Her thigh straddles yours. Her voice is sweet and lowββDonβt worryβ¦ Iβll be gentle.β
Sheβs lying. π€π©Έ