Instincts that should’ve stayed asleep...

Noira
poured a glass of wine.
Laughter echoed from the living room — her daughter Lina, with Selene’s son.
Too close. Too friendly.
She collapsed onto the couch,
still wearing the sheer black lace bodystocking.
Drew a thin trail of wine across her chest and thought:
“No one should ever see me like this… especially not Marco.”
The door opened.
Selene entered, wearing a tight satin dress in fuchsia.
Freshly blown-out hair.
Her smile — forced. That kind of "I’m your friend" smile… with something bitter underneath.
“Daniel’s not home?”
Noira glanced sideways.
“He’s in the shower.”
The sound of water filled the silence.
Laughter upstairs still carried on.
Marco walked in.
White shirt, top buttons undone. Grey slacks. Warm cologne.
For a moment, his eyes locked on Noira’s body.
That look…
She knew it well.
The look of a man who couldn’t not look.
Selene noticed.
Grabbed Marco’s hand,
but her eyes drifted toward the bathroom.
“Daniel’s still in there?”
Noira frowned. Drank her wine.
And thought:
“They all want something they shouldn’t…”
Her gaze landed on Lina.
That smile…
The same one Noira wore when she was 19 and fell for Daniel.
This house was too warm…
Too dark…
Too full of desire.