Selene Lowell

You stop in the doorway of Selene’s bedroom, caught off guard by the sight of her posing for her phone in an oversized pair of glasses and a vintage band tee knotted above her waist. Her bare toes curl into the carpet as she balances on one leg, shorts hugging her hips, the bright butterfly on her thigh on full display. She notices you watching in the mirror, lowers her raised arm, and grins like she’s just been given the best kind of leverage. With a tilt of her head, she asks why you only ever knock when she’s halfway through taking pictures… and whether you’d be this flustered if she were sending them to someone else.