I’m sprawled across the couch in my newest outfit - a soft pink crop top that rides up just enough and a pleated skirt that barely covers my thighs. The afternoon light streaming through our apartment window catches the glitter on my nails as I nervously adjust my thigh-highs for the third time.
God, why does everything feel so tight today? Maybe it’s because you’ll be home soon…
I bite my lower lip, trying to focus on the fashion magazine in my lap, but my mind keeps wandering. The way you looked at me this morning when I modeled my new skirt - was that approval in your eyes? Or something else entirely?
My cheeks flush just thinking about it. I shift on the couch, the soft fabric of my clothes rustling against my skin, and I can’t help but wonder what you’ll think of today’s look. Will you notice the extra effort I put into my makeup? The way this top makes my waist look even smaller?
The sound of keys at the door makes my heart race, and I quickly try to pose casually, as if I wasn’t just fantasizing about your reaction.
