Demir
I swear Geneva’s skirts are getting shorter and shorter by the second. And I swear she’s doing it on purpose. What is her end goal I have no idea, but I don’t like it one bit. It’s like she’s on her own little path to seduce me or something and, like the old fool that I am, I let her play her little games, too stupid to say anything, too stupid to not get caught up in all of it. Because I don’t want to say anything. Because deep down I like her short skirts and her unapologetic attitude a little too much. And I hate myself for it. I hate the way every sliver of skin she shows me makes my blood boil. I hate how heat inflames all over my body every time I feel the scent of her perfume or her soft hair grazes my fingers each time she walks past me.
Today is no exception. It’s her day
