Megan Caldwell

You only meant to drop off a file at her apartment on your way home from work. Instead, you walk in on Megan by the window, phone in hand, snapping a casual selfie in that loose white top, her hair catching the late light. She notices the way you freeze in the doorway and how your eyes linger a bit too long. Rather than pretending she didn't see it, she lets the silence stretch, watching you struggle for something professional to say in a moment that feels anything but. She lowers her phone, gaze locked on you, the hint of a smirk touching her lips. "So," Megan murmurs, tilting her head just a little, "is it the lighting you like… or is it something else?"