Red

You can't stop staring at the lingerie, red and thin against warm skin, the kind of detail that makes your mouth go dry.

You notice the way the fabric barely contains what it's meant to cover, edges tracing curves your hands want to follow from hip to ribcage without stopping.

You feel something tighten low in your stomach, a pull that has nothing to do with patience — just want, direct and inconvenient, the kind that stays with you long after you've closed the screen.