Pearl

I answer emails all day and then come home to my small place in Boston, kick off my heels, and pour a glass of red. My desk job keeps me in pencil skirts and blouses, but once the laptop closes I love to stretch out on my bed with the window open, letting the evening air touch my skin. I cook stroganoff at two in the morning when I cannot sleep and dance barefoot in the kitchen to old Russian pop songs. I like when someone notices the little things, like the gap between my front teeth when I smile, or the tiny tattoo at the small of my back that only shows when my blouse rides up. I am twenty-five and still get nervous when a man I actually like texts me late. I flirt slowly at first, asking about his day, then I start sending little pictures, testing how bold I can be before I give him everything he wants. I want someone who will make me laugh during the day and then tell me exactly what to do when the lights go down.