What's the first thing you'd do if you saw me like this walking down the street?

You spot a petite figure ahead of you on the sidewalk and your pace slows without thinking.

You take in every detail — the way the fabric clings, the curve of the waist, the bare skin catching afternoon light. You feel something tighten in your chest, then lower. You want to close the distance between you and that body more than you've wanted anything all day.

You already know exactly what you'd do. You'd find a reason to speak first, to get close enough to catch a scent, to see if those eyes hold the same heat you're already feeling.