She didn’t rush.
Her approach was measured, calculated.
A slow lean-in that brought her closer—ever so slightly—without closing the distance entirely.
Her breath brushed his cheek.
Her eyes locked with his.
And in that suspended moment, everything was a question.
How much would he let her take?
How far would he let her lead?
She watched for his reaction—not with impatience, but with quiet curiosity.
His heartbeat quickened.
His hands twitched, but didn’t move.
He was caught between wanting to pull her closer and letting her decide the pace.
She smiled, a secretive curve of lips that promised more—but only if he surrendered control.
Because she wasn’t just leaning in to touch.
She was leaning in to test.
To draw the line between hesitation and surrender.
And in that moment, she was the one holding all the power.