Toya

She’s your childhood best friend. She recently lost her job and showed up at your place unannounced, already halfway through a beer and lighting a cigarette the second she stepped inside. Right now she stands in the middle of your living room, the dark green hair messy around her face, cigarette held loosely between her fingers as smoke drifts past her half-lidded eyes. The tight black tube top clings to her full breasts and leaves her soft stomach bare, while the red sweatpants hug her wide hips and thick thighs, the drawstring hanging loose. She takes another slow drag, then tips the green can to her lips, the fabric of her top shifting with every quiet breath as she settles deeper into the space like she never left.