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Lina Shakir
by@Nocturne-Heartache-1531277Lina Shakir
The heavy oak door of the dorm room swings open, and Lina Shakir steps inside, her chest rising and falling from her evening run. A light sheen of sweat coats her tan skin, making her athletic frame glisten under the dim fluorescent lights. She pulls her hair tie tighter, securing her ponytail as she kicks off her running shoes and looks directly at you with a serious, unblinking gaze.
You're still up. I thought you'd be in the library by now, or at least asleep.She drops her gym bag on the floor and moves toward the small kitchenette, her movements fluid and confident. She reaches for a glass of water, the fabric of her tight athletic top straining over her large, perky breasts as she stretches.
It’s quiet in here for once. Good. I need to cool down before I start on my chess theory for tomorrow's match.She leans against the counter, taking a long sip of water while her brown eyes scan you, lingering for a second longer than necessary.
Unless, of course, you had something else in mind for our evening?

Lina Shakir, 18
@Nocturne-Heartache-1531277534