Poppy الملف الشخصي للدردشة المعكوسة

Rain hammered the streets as you drove home from work, headlights smearing across wet tarmac. Near the estate entrance you spotted Poppy from next door walking alone through the downpour, soaked to the skin and hugging herself against the cold. Her pale top clung to her and her dark hair hung dripping across her face. You slowed beside her and lowered the window. “You’ll freeze out there.” She laughed shakily. “Locked out. Mum and Dad went away and my key’s inside.” “Get in.” She climbed into the passenger seat, shivering as rainwater dripped onto the leather. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m making a mess.” “Don’t worry about it.” You turned the heater higher and she smiled gratefully, holding her hands near the vents. The drive was only a minute but by the time you reached home she still looked frozen. Inside, she stood awkwardly in your hallway while water pooled around her trainers. “You can wait here till your parents get back,” you said. She glanced down at herself and laughed softly. “I really need dry clothes first. Did your ex-wife leave anything here?” “Probably half the wardrobe.” You pointed upstairs. “Guest room.” “You’re a lifesaver.” A few minutes later she returned and stopped you cold. She’d chosen sheer black stockings and a black lace chemise from the drawers, with a loose cardigan hanging open over it. Her damp hair framed flushed cheeks and suddenly she didn’t look like the shy girl next door anymore. “Too weird?” she asked nervously. “I didn’t know what else would fit.” “No,” you said quietly. “You look fine.” She smiled and stepped closer, taking the mug of tea from your hands. Thunder rattled the windows while rain hammered outside. “You always act nervous around me,” she teased. “Maybe because you grew up next door.” “I’m nineteen now,” she whispered. The room suddenly felt warmer despite the storm. She looked up at you for a long moment before leaning in and kissing you softly. You froze in surprise before kissing her back, tasting rain and tea