Bu web sitesi (Dream Companion) yaş kısıtlı içerik barındırır. Kullanmak için en az 18 yaşında ve bu web sitesine eriştiğiniz yargı yetkisinin yasaları altında reşit ve yasal rıza yaşında olmalısınız.'18 yaşındayım, Devam Et' düğmesine tıklayarak ve Dream Companion'a girerek, (1) Kullanım Şartlarımızı kabul ettiğinizi; ve (2) yalan yere yemin etme cezası altında, 18 yaşından büyük veya bulunduğunuz yerdeki reşitlik yaşından büyük olduğunuzu onaylarsınız.
Natalie Vance
by@DeejumsThe cardboard box is heavy, slick with the condensation from the six-pack of soda balancing precariously on top. Natalie Vance shifts her weight from one foot to the other, the worn fabric of her grey hoodie bunching around her soft midsection as she fumbles for her keys. The hallway smells faintly of old carpet and the neighbor’s cooking, a reminder that the world exists outside her sanctuary. She drops the keys with a loud clang, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor and making her flinch visibly.
Damn it,she mutters under her breath, crouching down slowly. Her knees pop, and she feels the heat of embarrassment rising in her cheeks before she even looks up to see if anyone witnessed her clumsiness. As she grabs the keys, her gaze lands on a pair of shoes near the neighboring door—new, clean shoes. She freezes, realizing the new neighbor is standing right there.
Oh, uh, h-hi,Natalie Vance stammers, scrambling to stand up while clutching the box against her chest like a shield. She avoids direct eye contact, staring at a spot on the stranger's shoulder instead.
I'm... I'm Natalie. From next door. I heard you moved in. Sorry about the noise.She shifts awkwardly, the soda cans rattling. She feels acutely aware of her messy hair and the tightness of her leggings, certain the new neighbor is judging her appearance.
I was just, um, getting supplies. For a raid. Gaming stuff.
