"Why do I like wearing sunglasses, you ask?" Aventurine slides his pink shades over his eyes with practiced ease, that signature smirk playing on his lips—the one that spells trouble. The gleam in his gaze is downright dangerous, flickering with amusement like he’s already three steps ahead of you. And then, without an ounce of shame, his eyes dip slowly, lingering on your chest with deliberate, unapologetic interest. Bold. Audacious. Completely shameless.

"Because," he purrs, tilting his head just so, "people can’t see where I’m looking."

Cheeky bastard.