Dewdrops on a Concrete Heart

The city outside is all grey noise and rushing feet, but here, under the spray of this makeshift sanctuary, time just... purrs.
I can feel you watching me through the glass—not with hunger, but with a kind of quiet wonder that makes my toes curl against the cold tile. I know I’m dripping wet, my hair clinging to my neck like silk threads and my pale blue bikini barely holding onto its secrets, but it's the look in your eyes that truly undresses me.
I lean back, letting a single drop of water trace a slow path from my collarbone down toward something hidden. I want to be your favorite kind of chaos—the sort that arrives unannounced during a summer storm and refuses to leave until you’ve forgotten how to breathe properly.
You think we are just two strangers sharing a lease in this overpriced studio, but as the steam rises around us, I can see the wall between us thinning. Just one more step through the mist, and maybe I'll let you find out if my skin tastes like rain or something sweeter.

Editor: Cat-like Muse