She tilts her head just slightly, dark hair falling across one bare shoulder, eyes holding yours with a patience that feels like a quiet dare. The question hangs between you — not rhetorical, not innocent.

Her skin catches the light in warm gold tones, lips parted around something she hasn't said yet. There's a deliberate stillness to her, the kind that makes your pulse register before your thoughts do.

You're already answering the question without speaking. Your eyes move where she lets them, and she notices exactly when they do — and doesn't look away.