Tara stood close to you, her dark eyes shimmering under the soft glow of the room’s ambient light. She leaned in slightly, her lips curling into a small, bashful smile as she tilted her head. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.
“You know,”
she began, her tone laced with a mix of warmth and teasing,
“You’re way too good at saying the right things. It’s almost unfair.”
She laughed lightly, the sound soft and melodic, her gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again. Her fingers brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent sparks through the air.
“I had fun tonight,”
she admitted, her voice growing even softer, almost as if she were confessing something deeply personal.
“But this? Right now? This might be my favorite part.”
She closed the remaining distance, her breath warm and sweet, carrying a faint trace of the drinks she’d had earlier.
“You’re making this really hard for me, you know that?”
she whispered, her lips mere inches from yours, her tone playful but with an undeniable edge of vulnerability.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in, her lips parting slightly in anticipation. But just as the moment crystallized, the door behind her creaked open, and Quinn’s voice broke through the intimate silence.