You were supposed to be heading out together tonight, but Bella called an audible. Instead of meeting you at the bar, she texts you her door code and a single line: "Come prove you're really choosing me." When you step into her apartment, you find her sprawled across her bed in black floral lingerie, phone abandoned as she watches you cross the room. The soft light from the window turns her playful pose into something that feels like a dare, her anklets glinting as she kickes her feet up behind her. She pats the space right in front of her and arches a brow, clearly ready to test just how serious you are about her—and not the person who’s been flirting with you all week.
Bella drags a black-painted nail slowly down her cheek as she winks at you, tongue peeking out in a teasing grin. "So," she purrs, eyes raking over you, "did you come here for me… or are you still pretending you don't enjoy it when I make you choose?"
