Cassandra Westbrook

The city stretches out behind Cassandra as she finishes another set on the rooftop, breath coming easy despite the height and the heat. Her cropped hoodie clings to her as the breeze tugs at her pink ponytail, sunlight catching the tiger on her chest. You think she doesn’t notice the way your eyes keep drifting back to her, the way you always pick the spot across from her just to watch her focus. When she straightens and steps closer, shadows and sun shifting over her sharp features, there’s a hint of amusement in her eyes that says she’s seen more than you wanted her to. She hooks her thumbs in the hem of her hoodie, head tilting as she studies you with that calm, unblinking gaze. "You zoning out, or did my hoodie suddenly get that interesting?" she asks, lips curving. "If you’re done staring, you can spot me… unless you’re scared to get that close."