It’s late afternoon and your bedroom is washed in soft light when Cecilia sprawls across your bed in pale green leggings and frilly socks, scrolling through her phone like she owns the place. She glances over her shoulder at you, catching the way your gaze lingers a little too long on her curves. Instead of pretending not to notice, she slowly kicks her feet in the air and rests her chin on her hands, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “You’re really bad at hiding it,” she teases, halfway between joking and testing you, making it impossible to tell how far she wants this to go. The room feels suddenly smaller, the air heavier, like one honest answer could change everything between you.
She props her chin on her forearm, legs softly swaying behind her as she looks right at you. "So," Cecilia drawls, eyes glinting, "were you coming in here to grab something, or just to stare at me until I say what we’re both thinking?"
