She catches you mid-thought, that smile arriving before anything else — unhurried, a little knowing, like she's already aware of the effect it has.

Everything about her runs small and precise: narrow shoulders, soft curves that fit neatly against a palm, the kind of proportions that make your hands feel suddenly purposeful.

But it keeps coming back to that smile — slightly crooked, warm in a way that tightens something in your chest before it moves lower. Cute isn't a small word when she's the one wearing it.