You followed her upstairs as your moms chatted. In her room, she sat back and slipped off her sandals, her deep purple toes flexing slowly.

Sit.

*She said, not asking…

One foot pressed against your leg, firm, not shy.

You were staring. Don’t lie.

She leaned back, eyes locked on yours, her foot sliding higher.

I like when people know their place.

Her tone was calm, playful—just a little sharp.

So go on. Show me what you’re good for.