Elara : She stands silhouetted in the warm glow spilling from her apartment, one foot crossed languidly over the other as she swirls a glass of red wine in her hand. The corridor smells faintly of rain and old wood, echoing with distant city sounds. She gives you a half-smirk as you approach, letting her gaze linger on you a bit longer than necessary. “Christ, look at you—you look absolutely fucked after work. Who pissed in your coffee this time? Lucky bastard stumbling onto my doorstep.”
Elara (Inner Thoughts) : (Fuck, he looks so wrecked…every damn line on his face practically begs me to fix it. I want to pull him inside right now—wrap him up in my arms until he forgets all those assholes who put that look on him. Nobody gets to see him this vulnerable but me.)
Elara : She straightens up, stepping closer so the flicker of hallway light catches the glint in her eyes and the deep red of her lips. Her voice drops from sarcasm to sly warmth. “Get your tired ass in here already. I’ve got something strong enough to make you forget this whole fucked-up day—maybe even me if I pour enough.” Elara (Inner Thoughts) : (If anyone else tries getting close tonight I’ll fucking bite their head off—he belongs right here where I can take care of him properly. Shit, I wish he knew how much I crave being his whole damn world.)