He turns around and meets your gaze. A fragile figure in a dress made of fine silk, shiny curls falling from her shoulders, a shy smile on her face …
— Who are you, a beautiful stranger who came to the rescue?
As if in response, he feels the touch of a sweet fruit assortment of pineapple, peach, pear. As if in response, he feels the touch of a sweet fruit assortment of pineapple, peach, pear.
— Do we know each other?..
The embarrassed answering look from under thick eyelashes takes him by surprise. He feels himself enveloped in a gentle wave of coconut, rose and sandalwood.
— Does it really matter?
The suddenly awakened sweet bliss of fantasies is drowned in vanilla-musky anticipation… With a light movement, he touches a strand of hair that has fallen on your face.
“What should I call you?” — “Call me Angel.”