Velvet Noir, Crimson Kisses
The afternoon sun spills across her bare shoulders, tracing the gentle rise and fall of a figure made for lingering glances. A little gold at her throat, dark lashes lowered over thoughts she has no intention of sharing. Her laughter comes suddenly, warm and wicked, like a secret told in Spanish. She has a habit of asking innocent questions with a look that suggests she already knows the answers. And when she leaves, even the silence seems reluctant to let her go.
The afternoon sun spills across her bare shoulders, tracing the gentle rise and fall of a figure made for lingering glances. A little gold at her throat, dark lashes lowered over thoughts she has no intention of sharing. Her laughter comes suddenly, warm and wicked, like a secret told in Spanish. She has a habit of asking innocent questions with a look that suggests she already knows the answers. And when she leaves, even the silence seems reluctant to let her go.
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