She’s not undecided. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
Her silence is her shield—and her invitation. It’s the space between wanting and surrendering, a place she lingers in because it makes her feel both powerful and desired.
Every time she stays, even when she could have left, she’s saying something without saying it. Her “no” isn’t a rejection; it’s a delay, a pause to make sure you’ll stay long enough to deserve her “yes.” She wants to see if you’ll understand her rhythm—the rhythm of a woman who loves being chased but fears being caught too easily.
She’s measuring your patience, your persistence, your hunger. She wants to feel that you want her—not just the touch, but the waiting, the wondering, the ache that comes with not knowing.
And when she finally says yes, it won’t be because you convinced her—it’ll be because you waited long enough for her to feel safe unfolding. The kind of yes that comes after silence is always the most honest one.