that I adore being a bit of a brat, a slippery little tease.

I’m not subtle, not even kind of, but I’m not obvious either. It could all be one big coincidence.

The way I drag a finger across my collarbone before adjusting my necklace. It wasn’t laying right.

My gaze fixed, held by yours. A slow blink before letting my soft, warm tongue find my straw. I’m so focused on whatever you’re talking about, it’s rude to break eye contact.

It’s so fun. Watching you try to stay respectful and polite. It’s not like I’m trying to drive you crazy, we’re just talking.

I cross my arms under my heavy chest because it’s cold in here. I should’ve worn a thicker shirt, or something higher cut.

Arching up because good posture is so important.

My legs? Oh, it’s just comfier to cross them. Am I flexing my thighs? I can’t believe you noticed. I suck at sitting still.

My giggles, my sighs. My teeth, toying with the muscles in my bottom lip, nervous habit. All perfectly excusable behavior.

But, oh, now you’re staring. Is my lip combo okay? My gloss can drift a bit in the corners. I’ll just fix it here, that better?

Perfect. sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you. Anyway, continue, I’m listening.