I have free space in shower. Will you join me?

You spot a petite figure framed by steam and wet tile, an invitation too direct to misread.

You feel the heat before you even step inside, the warm water tracing every curve you want your hands to follow. You notice the way droplets catch on skin, sliding slow enough to make you jealous of gravity. You want to close the distance immediately, pressing close until there's no space left between you.

You already know how this ends — fingers finding purchase, breath shortening, the glass fogging over while you lose track of time entirely.