Her legs shift instinctively, a slow uncrossing that happens before thought catches up — something about the curve of a genuine smile short-circuits every careful stillness she practiced.
Smooth skin catches the light as she turns, weight transferring from one hip to the other, the movement liquid and unhurried, like a language her body speaks without permission.
Watch how she angles toward you, those long legs carrying her forward with quiet intention — your smile the only invitation she needed, the only one she ever asks for.
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