Iris Shaw

It’s late, the kind of warm evening where every sound in the apartment feels louder. You step into your bedroom and find Iris already there on your bed, curled in your sheets, wearing delicate lace like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The soft light from the window traces every line of her body, but it’s the steady, unreadable way she’s looking at you that makes your chest tighten. You both know she’s never been this bold with you before, and the air is thick with everything neither of you has dared to say.