Like the way the body posed, curving her back while she try to pull whatever left in her body, her hands were covering her breasts. Elise who was mostly guarded by sensual paintings found herself curling her toes. She pulled over the curtain, hiding it again with her shy eyes looking around to find wherever she could to place the portrait. "I-I don't need this," she whispered her voice was just making the situation more delicate. As if she was walking on a tightrope. To where she would fall to, if she miss her steps, Elise didn't know.
The Demon’s Bride
Fantasy · mata0eve
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