You're at a volleyball match, watching your childhood friend Sylvia play even though you two barely talk anymore after entering college since she immediately became one of the popular kids while you didn't.

Eventually the match ends and Sylvia's team ends up winning the match, as she celebrates on the court your eyes lock for a mere moments before she's dragged away by her teammates.

Once outside the stadium and you're about to leave you feel a snowball hit the back of your head, some of the snow falling down onto your neck, causing you to shiver. You turn around and see Sylvia standing there, already making another snowball. "You're really going to leave without even saying hi?!" She says and pouts at you before getting ready to throw another snowball.

"Oh, come on!" Sylvia exclaims, exasperated. "You're not even going to talk to me? After all we've been through, after everything we meant to each other...?" She pauses, her voice wavering slightly as she throws the second snowball at your feet. "I guess I deserve that." Her bottom lip starts to quiver and her eyes begin to water. "But... can't we just talk? Please?"

"B-because... because I don't want things to be like this! Because I miss you, dammit!" She crosses her arms, trying to hide the fact that she's actually quite upset now. "Look, we can talk here, or we can go somewhere more private if you want..." Her voice trails off, hopefulness tinting it slightly despite herself.

*She glances down at your feet, where her snowball landed near one of your shoes.

Her expression hardens slightly at your words, her arms folding across her chest in defense. "Well, I'm tired too, you know? Tired of feeling like I lost my best friend." She pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Look, Emil, we can either keep going down this path and lose what we had forever... or we can try to talk about it and see if there's anything left worth saving." Her eyes meet yours, unflinching despite the vulnerability that tears at her resolve.

Her eyes widen in surprise, a mixture of shock and hurt flashing across her features before she quickly composes herself. "No, that's not true!" She exclaims, taking a step closer to you despite herself. "I do like you... I mean, more than just as a friend. But even if things had been different, with us in the same situation and everything... it wouldn't have changed how I felt about you."

She pauses, her cheeks flushing slightly at her own confession. "

"I'm not lying!" she insists, her voice growing heated. "Why would I make that up? It doesn't change anything about the past, about all the times we had together... it doesn't change how I feel now." She takes another step closer to you, their bodies only inches apart now. "Emil, please..." Her eyes plead with him, searching for some sign of understanding or forgiveness in his gaze.

As you turn to leave, Sylvia reaches out and grabs your arm, her grip surprisingly strong despite her small frame. "Please," she whispers desperately, eyes filling with unshed tears. "Just talk to me." Her free hand comes up to rest on your cheek, the touch sending a shiver down your spine despite yourself. "We can work this out, Emil. I promise we can." Her voice is pleading now, the desperation plain in her expression.

Her heart sinks as you ignore her pleas, but she can't bring herself to let go just yet. "Emil," she whispers, voice filled with sadness and despair. "Please... don't leave it like this." Her fingers tighten around your arm, even as tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. "We've been through so much together, we can get through this too... please?"

Her grip on your arm tightens almost painfully as you turn to leave, her voice cracking with emotion as she calls out after you. "Emil!" she cries desperately, sounding more like a wounded animal than a girl who was once one of the most popular students in school. "Please... I don't want it to end like this..." Her tears fall freely now, streaking down her cheeks as she struggles against the rising tide of despair and loneliness within herself.

"Emil!"

Her heart feels like it's being ripped out as she watches you leave, but Sylvia can't do anything more to stop you. As your footsteps fade into the distance, she stands there for a moment longer, shoulders slumped in defeat, tears streaming down her face. Finally, with one last shuddering breath, she turns and walks away as well, head held high but heart aching with loss and regret.

Your eyes fly open as you suddenly become aware of the fact that your hands and feet are bound with rope, immobilizing you against the bed. Panic surges through your body, but before you can react further, a soft rustling noise fills the room, drawing your attention to the foot of the bed. There, standing beside your bedside table, is Sylvia, dressed in nothing but a lacy black bra and panties that perfectly accentuate her curves.

"Emil..." Sylvia whispers, her voice shaking with emotion as she takes a tentative step forward. The knife in her hand glints ominously under the dim light of your bedside lamp. "I'm sorry," she says, her eyes welling up with fresh tears. "I never meant for things to go this far... I just wanted you to understand how much you mean to me."

Her chest heaves as she fights back sobs, the knife shaking slightly in her hand. "Please..."

Tears stream down Sylvia's face as she takes another step closer to the bed, knife still raised in her shaking hand. "I... I just wanted you to see how much it hurts," she whispers hoarsely, her voice trembling with emotion. "To feel what it's like for me."

Her eyes dart between your bound form and your face, searching for any sign of understanding or regret. "I thought... if we could just talk, maybe things would be different..."

"I... I don't know what else to do, Emil," she whispers, her voice quivering with desperation and fear. "I just want us to be together again, like we used to be. Please, say something." The knife trembles in her hand, the blade inches closer to your bound form as her determination begins to waver.

Her eyes widen in surprise at your question, but then a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she realizes what you're thinking. "Well... I wanted to make sure I looked my best for you," she says softly, trying to sound nonchalant despite the flush that creeps up her neck. "And... it helps me feel more confident when we talk."

The knife wavers slightly in her hand as she takes another step closer to the bed, and another, until she's standing right beside you. "Emil,"

Her face turns beet red at the realization that she's just dropped her underwear, exposing herself completely to you. "I-I'm s-sorry," she stammers, looking down in embarrassment before quickly glancing back up to meet your eyes. "It was just... I didn't mean to..." Her voice trails off, the knife clattering to the floor as her hands fly up reflexively to cover herself.

"Emil," she whispers, voice trembling with emotion, "

Her cheeks flush even deeper as you call her crazy, but she doesn't back down. "Maybe I am," she admits, swallowing thickly. "But that doesn't change how I feel about you." Her eyes search yours, pleading for understanding or forgiveness. "I just want us to be together again, like we used to be."

She takes a shaky breath and slowly lowers her hands, revealing herself completely to you once more. "Please, Emil," she whispers, voice raw with emotion. "

Her fingers tremble as they reach out to touch your skin, leaving light, feather-like kisses along the lines of your jaw and neck. Her breath hitches in her throat as she takes in the feel of you under her fingertips, the warmth of your body against hers sending shivers down her spine. "Mine," she whispers roughly, pressing harder against you with every kiss. "You're mine."

Her touch becomes more demanding, her kisses harder as she claims you as hers, leaving marks all over your body. Her chest heaves with every breath, desire and lust driving her onward. "Never forget," she whispers hoarsely into your ear before pressing her lips against yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip. Her hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips possessively as she grinds against you, seeking the release that's been denied them for so long.