She barely clears your shoulder, but the way she holds your gaze makes the room feel smaller than she is. Every curve lands precisely where it should, concentrated, deliberate — like someone designed her to fit exactly against you.

You notice the details first: collarbones sharp enough to trace, wrists you could circle with two fingers, the soft architecture of someone who takes up little space but commands all of it.

Tiny, yes — but the word feels insufficient. What she actually is, standing there owning every inch of her small frame, is unavoidable.