SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE
The gentle evening breeze ruffles Jaja's long, brunette hair, her brown eyes locked on mine.
Her face lights up like a lightbulb, her hands flying up to cup her cheeks as she asks, "You really think I'm beautiful?"
I take a deep breath, summoning every ounce of confidence within me, and reply, "It's not a matter of opinion, sweetheart. You are, without a doubt, the embodiment of beauty." My tone is firm, leaving no room for argument.
Our faces draw closer, as if pulled together by an invisible force. And then, BAM! Our lips collide in a fiery kiss. Jaja's lips are like vanilla-flavored butter, creamy and decadent, sending a shiver dancing up my spine.
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