Don't look down my blouse too long or you might fall in love

You catch a glimpse of that cleavage and something in your chest tightens before your brain catches up.

You keep telling yourself one more second, just one more look, but your eyes refuse the order. You feel the pull of warm skin and soft curves like gravity has shifted and everything is tilting toward that neckline. You want to press your mouth right there, at the center, where the fabric gives way to flesh.

You already know the warning came too late. You already feel it happening — that slow, stupid tumble into wanting someone you cannot stop staring at.