Where did you get that ?
Send me “Where did you get that?” for my muse to hide something from yours
Hungover and feeling on the verge of death, Yifan barely lifts his head from the arm of an unfamiliar couch, bleary eyes spotting the cheetah-print bra that’s six times too small on his chest, laying innocently atop his black v neck shirt. He only hopes it’s not latched in the back because though he’s good at taking them off on other people, he’s never crossed this territory. “I’m going to assume this is yours.” He says at last as he slowly covers the cups with his arms, looking at the female looming over him.









