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Straight Mature Red Head -
Marcus walked over, leaning against the drafting table. He looked at the sketches, then at Elena. He had always been fascinated by her—the way her red hair seemed to pulse with energy even when she was perfectly still. To him, she was a masterpiece of restraint.
When he kissed her, it wasn't a calculated move. It was a collision of logic and history, of steel and soft light. Straight Mature Red Head
In the sudden darkness, the only light came from the streetlamps outside, casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. Elena felt a rare flash of vulnerability. She reached out, her hand brushing Marcus’s sleeve. "Elena," he whispered. Marcus walked over, leaning against the drafting table
"It’s too much," she muttered, tapping a charcoal pencil against her chin. "It lacks direction." Marcus walked over