#c. grace

Eyes catch on the figure in the shop, pushing aside the curtain on his way out from the back -- he freezes in place, looking around to seek the shop keep and finding his friend nowhere in sight. ( Huh.  that’s odd -- it’s unlike them to just leave the shop unattended without saying anything at all -- )  Asra is quick to finish stuffing the bread he’d been munching on down his throat and smile, inviting and warm, stepping up to the counter.

based on the source

with one arm wrapped around the neck of the giant stuffed animal he'd won her, and the other curled around the back of his slim waist, grace was more than content. "thank you for today," she murmurs, rolling onto her toes on the next step forward to press a kiss to his lips as they neared the door of the hotel they'd rented for the night. "it was perfect."

as much as she loved her family, grace hated weekly sunday dinners. her father droned on about work as if any of them understood what he was talking about, laughing at his own jokes, while her mother went on about drama that was happening amongst the other wives at the country club as if it was truly life altering news. grace was lucky if they asked her a question and allowed her to actual answer before they began talking again. phone in her lap, she'd been scrolling through a set of photos she'd recently taken before deciding on one - fingers squeezed around otherwise bare tits and making the cleavage pop even more. it's mild, but good enough to draw attention. typing out a quick message to her latest boy-toy, she hits send.

text: would rather you be eating these than stuck at this dinner a second longer.