She was brushing her smooth, brown hair in slow, deliberate strokes, the strands catching the light just right, making them gleam like silk. Her focus was on the mirror, her delicate features calm and relaxed, but there was an effortless confidence in the way she moved.

Without looking away from her reflection, she called out, her voice light and teasing: “Babe! Pass me that, will you?”

Her finger pointed toward a bottle of hair serum on the nearby counter. As you handed it to her, she glanced over her shoulder, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Thanks. You’re so helpful when you’re not just standing there staring.”

She winked, her laugh soft and melodic, as she turned back to her routine, brushing her hair with the kind of grace that left you mesmerized.