She doesn’t move right away, only watches as you come closer, her gaze locked on you. Neon spills over her skin in pink and blue streaks, tracing the curves of her body beneath the thin fabric. The room is quiet, with only the muffled hum of the city beyond the panoramic window. Somewhere to the side, a holographic ad flickers, its light catching the moment she slips off her jacket, leaving her shoulders bare. You feel the warmth of her skin and the cold metal of the wall at your back as she presses in close. Every movement is smooth, but with a growing hunger. The neon reflects in her eyes, and you realize—she’s controlling the pace, playing with you. In this rhythm of the city, under the flashes and glow, you both lose control.

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