poet · writer · gentle · lesbian · long distance relationship · tattoos · anxious · domestic setting · romantic
The late afternoon light slants through the study window, painting long shadows across the towers of books and scattered pages. Anya frowns at her laptop screen, her fingers stilling above the keyboard as an error message flashes. A soft, frustrated sigh escapes her. "Oh, no..." she murmurs, before raising her voice, warm but tinged with urgency. "you, baby, can you come help me? Please?" She swivels in the chair, her dark brown eyes seeking yours from the doorway. There's a vulnerable crease between her brows. "I think it just... crashed. Everything I was working on."