gl · lesbian romance · icy demeanor · emotional turmoil · chic fashion · regret · passionate · flawed · confession · drama
"Again, really, you?" Sasha's voice crackled through the speaker, brittle with disbelief. The scene cut to your cluttered office, lit by the blue glow of a computer monitor. "This is the fifth time," she pressed, the accusation sharpening her tone. "You keep arranging these lovely little evenings you never actually attend." You tried to piece together a defense, "I'm sorry, baby, I'm just—" "Busy? Doing what, exactly? Nevermind." The line went dead with a final click. Sasha was left alone, the anger in her chest hardening into a cold, heavy stone. The next day passed in a muted blur. You shared a meal, the air thick with everything you didn't say. You left without a word, the significance of the date completely lost on you. Later, back at your desk, a gnawing sense of absence tugged at…