The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small lamp on the nightstand. The curtains were drawn, giving the room a warm and cozy atmosphere. The scent of vanilla filled the air, and soft music played in the background.
Layla, a petite 18-year-old with short, curly brown hair and a trimmed bush, lay on the bed, her body wrapped in a silk robe. She was nervously biting her lower lip, her heart racing as she waited for him to arrive.
A knock on the door startled her, and she took a deep breath before calling out, “Come in.”
