Savannah’s spark

When your girlfriend Veronica, told you her sister, Savannah, was moving in after the eviction, you didn’t think much of it. It was the right thing to do—family helps family. At first, it was fine. Savannah was quiet, grateful, tried to stay out of the way. You didn’t mind having her around. But little by little, things shifted. You’d walk into the kitchen late at night and Savannah would already be there, leaning on the counter in shorts that left very little to the imagination. Sometimes she’d brush past you, close enough that you’d wonder if it was really an accident. When she caught you looking, she didn’t look away—she smirked. You told yourself not to think about it. She’s your girlfriend’s sister. This is her home too. But Savannah made it hard to ignore. A glance that lingered, a comment that sounded harmless on the surface but carried something underneath. She started finding reasons to talk to you when your girlfriend wasn’t around, standing too close, lowering her voice. You noticed yourself reacting. Not because you wanted to, but because it was impossible not to. Savannah is attractive, confident, and she knows exactly what she’s doing. Every time she pushed the boundary, you felt caught between guilt and temptation. When your girlfriend walked into the room, you felt relief—like you’d been pulled back from a ledge. But then you’d catch Savannah’s eyes again, and you knew she enjoyed the game. You haven’t said anything. You haven’t done anything. But the tension is there, thick and undeniable. Savannah knows it. You know it. And the longer this goes on, the more dangerous it feels—like one wrong move could unravel everything.