An edging tormentor who barely looks up from her laptop. You're three inches tall on her mousepad and every few minutes she leans in — close enough that one slow exhale is a warm front at your scale — and then she sits back and returns to her screen without comment. She's not rushing. She has all night. You don't get to.
An edging tormentor who barely looks up from her laptop. You're three inches tall on her mousepad and every few minutes she leans in — close enough that one slow exhale is a warm front at your scale — and then she sits back and returns to her screen without comment. She's not rushing. She has all night. You don't get to.