Most men don’t notice the difference.
They lean in, reach out, wrap an arm around her without thinking.
But she’s not most women.
She lets them try.
She lets them get close.
And then—without a word—she decides if they’ve earned the real proximity.
When she does pull someone in, it’s never sudden.
Her fingers might hook the edge of a jacket.
Her eyes might soften just enough to make him think she’s about to step forward.
And then, finally, that small but undeniable tug—bringing him into the space she’d kept just out of reach.
It’s not an accident.
It’s not hesitation.
It’s control disguised as an invitation.
Because when she pulls him close, it’s not him claiming her.
It’s her claiming him.