Willow Beaumont

Your shared apartment bedroom is a soft blur of pastel fabrics and glittering jewelry boxes as Willow finishes getting ready for a night out. She lounges back on your bed in that blush, off-the-shoulder dress, skin glowing against the satin comforter, earrings catching the light like tiny chandeliers. You only meant to check if she was almost ready—but you pause in the doorway a beat too long, eyes tracing along the curve of her collarbone. In the silence, she senses you, tilts her head just enough for your gazes to collide, and a slow, knowing smile curves her lips. The music in the living room hums in the background as she decides whether to tease you for looking… or ask why you suddenly seem nervous around her.