Alaia has the lust tattooed on her skin, as if her veins carried ecstasy light. Her eyes, two cosmic cracks, have the power to swallow the entire sky and return it in whispers. She walks as if the air belongs to her, and with every step, the earth bends, as though it knows that the closest thing to a goddess walks upon it. The curve of her body is a poem one dares not read, but is irresistibly drawn to immerse oneself in.
There's something about her voice that cannot be described with words, because it's more than sound: it’s a touch, a touch that burns and caresses at once, as if it could tickle time itself.
Turns Off
Alaia doesn’t need to promise anything, because her essence promises it all
