Soomin shuffled in last, wrapped in what could only be described as a fluffy, oversized pajama set covered in cartoon foxes. It should have been modest. It should have been innocuous.
Instead, the baggy fabric somehow managed to make her incredible, voluptuous figure even more noticeable—like trying to hide a Ferrari under a bedsheet.
The softness of the material clung to her curves in ways that drew the eye despite her obvious attempts to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible.
She hugged a pillow to her chest like a shield, her gradient blue eyes darting nervously around the room, clearly uncomfortable with the attention her body commanded even when she was trying to hide it.
Skylar reappeared from upstairs in full goth-punk lounge mode: a deliberately ripped band t-shirt that read "CRIMSON RUIN WORLD TOUR" in faded letters, the tears strategically placed to reveal glimpses of pale skin and the black lace of her bra.
