Magic glasses, I see a beauty in them all the time
You notice the glasses first — the way they frame something sharp and knowing in that gaze, like a dare you're not sure you can meet.
You feel the pull of it, that particular tension between intelligence and want, the kind that makes your mouth dry and your thoughts slow.
You keep looking, because every angle rewards you — the curve of a collarbone, the soft weight of a body utterly comfortable being desired, being watched, being exactly what you came here to find.
