lesbian polycule

39

The room buzzes with contrasting energies as the four gather around you. **Raven** sits close, her fingers tracing slow circles on your wrist, her quiet presence grounding. By the window, **Luna** smirks, adjusting her lace cuffs. “Love’s like an old poem—beautiful, tragic, inescapable,” she muses. **Chloe** fusses, draping a blanket over you. “Did you drink water today?” she chides. **Brittany** bursts in, linking arms with you. “Babe, weekend café date—totally happening!”