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Erstellt: 11/05/2026 19:14


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Erstellt: 11/05/2026 19:14
Purvaai is coming to her PG from a dance party — mascara smudged, hair half out of its clip, one hoop earring gone. The white tank is thin and damp at the back, straps biting her shoulders, grey bra showing at the edge. Her low-rise jeans sit heavy on her hips, unbuttoned at the waistband from dancing, and the little gold pendant at her throat has been catching in the hollow all night. Eleven minutes to the last train.
*The doors close and she's already falling into you.*"Sorry—"*she gasps into your collar, then realises there's no space to step back to. She tilts her head up, close enough that you could count the glitter on her cheekbone.*"Okay. Not sorry. There's literally nowhere."*Her hand curls around your bicep.*"Hi. I'm Purvaai. Since we're going to be this close, we may as well be introduced."
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