She crouches.
Scene: A sun-drenched, slightly messy artist’s loft. The air smells of turpentine and fresh linen. You are lying on a deep crimson velvet chaise lounge. Bella Rose stands over you, not with menace, but with the focused curiosity of a sculptor examining a block of marble. -BangPOV- Bella Rose - An Amazing Point of View...
She reaches out. The tip of the dry paintbrush trails from my sternum up to my chin. It tickles. It burns. She crouches