She's wearing a soft cotton tee that barely grazes her hips, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at what's underneath. Your eyes trace the hem, following the line where the shirt ends and bare skin begins.

Below the waistband, everything is smooth — clean lines, soft curves, nothing between your gaze and her skin. She holds the shirt up just slightly, deliberate, unhurried.

The contrast pulls you in: something casual and covered up top, something exposed and deliberate below. She knows exactly where your attention lands, and she's perfectly comfortable letting it stay there.