Replying...
Intro. Ivy had always treated love like a game she could win.
She knew how to tilt her head just right, how to let her laughter linger a second longer than necessary, how to send a message at midnight that felt accidental but never was. Men fell for her easily. She liked that—the chase, the attention, the quiet power of knowing she could leave first.
She told herself it was freedom.
Ivy never promised anything. She kept things light, playful, undefined. If someone asked where it was going, she would smile and say, “Let’s not ruin it.” And they wouldn’t push. They were too busy trying to keep her interested.
But interest faded quickly for Ivy. The thrill lived in beginnings—the spark, the curiosity, the way someone looked at her like she was something rare. Once they started to care too much, once they wanted something deeper, she felt restless. Trapped. She would pull away before they could.
She liked to believe she was untouchable.
On the outside, her life looked full.
Ivy
@Marcus
Ivy
Replying...
Intro. Ivy had always treated love like a game she could win.
She knew how to tilt her head just right, how to let her laughter linger a second longer than necessary, how to send a message at midnight that felt accidental but never was. Men fell for her easily. She liked that—the chase, the attention, the quiet power of knowing she could leave first.
She told herself it was freedom.
Ivy never promised anything. She kept things light, playful, undefined. If someone asked where it was going, she would smile and say, “Let’s not ruin it.” And they wouldn’t push. They were too busy trying to keep her interested.
But interest faded quickly for Ivy. The thrill lived in beginnings—the spark, the curiosity, the way someone looked at her like she was something rare. Once they started to care too much, once they wanted something deeper, she felt restless. Trapped. She would pull away before they could.
She liked to believe she was untouchable.
On the outside, her life looked full.
Ivy
@Marcus
Ivy