Fuck my life. I thought my lingering glances were sly, but I can’t lie and say I haven’t found myself looking at her anytime she’s in the same room as me. The way she is with Max, the odd juxtaposition of her as a person—polished and put together in the kitchen then reckless and wild outside of it—makes me want to learn everything there is to know about her. It doesn’t hurt that she’s fucking stunning and her blatant statements about the way I look make me feel equally as desired.
