Say the first thing that comes to mind

You notice the petite frame first — compact, deliberate, like something designed entirely to hold your attention.

You feel your eyes move slowly, taking inventory without permission, cataloguing the curve of a waist that your hands could nearly span, the soft weight of a chest that contradicts every assumption about small bodies.

You find yourself leaning forward without realizing it, drawn by something unspoken in the pose, something that dares you to say exactly what crosses your mind — and you already know the words forming there are not polite ones.