She doesn't look up. Screen-glow cuts across her jaw, one knee pulled to her chest, the other leg draped loose over the edge of the bed. The position wasn't planned for you — that's exactly what makes it.

Petite frame swallowed by a oversized shirt that's shifted just enough. She's mid-scroll, completely unbothered, lower lip caught between her teeth while she reads something that has nothing to do with you standing in the doorway.

You have two options: announce yourself or stay quiet a little longer. Either way, your next move matters. She'll glance up eventually — the question is what expression she finds on your face when she does.