She laughed out loud. Then she wrote the thing she’d been afraid to admit.
She hated that she loved it.
A long pause. Then: “Monday. The emerald green mockneck. You paired it with that ridiculously oversized tortoiseshell hair clip. It was 10 AM and you already looked like you’d conquered a small country.” LoveHerBoobs - Victoria Nova - Coworker Fun Tim...
“This is fashion, Leo. Not a philosophy seminar.”
His reply came in three seconds. “Too late. It’s already the size of a small planet.” She laughed out loud
Their faces were close. She could smell his detergent—something clean, like cedar and rain. Her gaze flicked, involuntarily, to his mouth. Then, lower, to the way his linen shirt pulled across his chest. Then, absurdly, back to her own blouse. She felt the weight of her own body, the silk against her skin, the whisper of the gold chain.
His reply was instant.
Leo tilted his head. “Surrender implies loss. Softness implies choice.”