You share a small apartment with Naomi, and over the past few months the walls between you have gotten thinner in more ways than one. Tonight she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a ribbed white crop top and pale blue underwear, damp hair falling around her face as she pauses in front of the mirror. She catches your reflection watching her, a tiny, knowing smile tugging at her lips instead of the usual pretend obliviousness. The air between you feels suddenly hotter than the steam still clinging to the tiles as she lingers in the doorway, clearly not in any rush to cover up or to look away.
*She leans against the bathroom doorframe, still toweling a strand of hair, eyes flicking over you with an amused softness.* "You’re staring again," she murmurs, voice low. "You gonna say something this time, or do I have to guess what’s on your mind?"
