No, but she lays down some ground rules

After awhile, Jessie stood up and walked over to Leon. She stopped in front of him and waited for him to look up at her.

When he did she said, “Look, I believe you when you say it was an accident. Well, most of me believes that. But you absolutely cannot keep getting caught up in your work like that and expect me to be okay with it.”

“You mean... you’ll still model for me?”

“As long as you follow one very strict rule. You’ve got one strike already and I won’t let you get to three, so I suggest you agree to it.”

“Name it.”

“Ask me, before doing anything that involves touching me in strange place or taking off my clothes. Don’t ask me while you’re doing it, and sure as hell don’t ask me after. And I'm telling you now, the answer is basically always going to be no.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure to ask you.”

“Good. And saying that you got too caught up in what you were doing, or that it was an accident, is not going to fly next time.”

“Understood. I'll be on my best behavior.”

“Good,” she said seriously, and then smiled. “I may not be much, but I’m the only model you’ve got. Don’t go and lose me just because your brain isn’t secured into your head.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I thought it was all over.”

“Just be careful from now on. Now anyways, about this shirt,” she said, taking the black shirt out of his hand.

“Uh, right. So like I mentioned, I think if we cut a big enough piece we can cover most of the bra,” he explained.

"Does it really need to be fitted?"

"If you're uncomfortable with doing a fitting, we can get an approximate size based on a different bra and go from there,” he said.

“Will that actually work, or are you just being nice for my sake?”

“I want you to have fun if you can, but it’ll also work well enough.”

“I’ll lay here like a lump while you fix it up then,” she said, and splayed our across her bed.

“Sounds like a plan, Jan.” He grabbed a bra from her closet and set next to her head while he started cutting.

“It isn’t just you,” she said, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her index finger. “You were being bad for sure, but even before that I felt weird.”

“What do you mean?” he asked while he sized the width of the cloth to the bra.

“I’ve spent years and years trying to be as small and hidden away as possible, and now I’m wearing a halfway see-through sweater and getting ready to let you stare at me through a camera lens. It’s just not... me. I never wanted to be the center of attention.”

“Do you feel like you’re forcing yourself?” The width was guaranteed to work, but the length was pure guess work without wrapping the cloth around her.

“I wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else, but I don’t think ‘forcing’ is the right word. I suppose I’m curious to see what it is you find so great about photography. Is it all about staring at pretty girls?”

“It’ll make more sense when you see the end result, I hope. If I tried to explain it now I think it probably would sound like I only did it to stare at pretty girls.” He laid a large strip of black cloth over her eyes. “See if this’ll fit.”

“Oh. Thanks for the quick work there, Mr. Photographer. Here goes nothing. Turn around for a second.”

She continued talking while he waited. “This—don’t turn around—is exactly what I’m talking about. I’m taking off my sweater with a guy in my room?" She sighed. "It’s like, how did I even end up here?” Fabric rustled, and then “Shit.”

“Can I look?”

“No! What part of ‘shit’ sounds like ‘turn around’ you ding dong?” A small foot planted itself on the middle of his back and pushed him playfully.

“Well then, tell me what you’re shitting about,” he laughed.

“I’m shitting about this cloth. It’s wide enough to cover the bra, but it’s not long enough for me to tie around my back.”

“Do you want me to-“

“Maybe if I... THERE—don’t turn around—I got it! Now I just have to hook this and... ta-dahhhh~”

He didn’t turn around.

“TA-DAHHH!!”

He still didn’t turn.

“Turn around, you ridiculous troll boy.”

He finally turned with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh, you meant me?”

“Die. So are we good or what?”

“Can I give it a once over? No touching necessary.”

“If you have to....”

“I’ll be quick,” he said, and approached her. He looked at her chest and followed the strip of black from front to back. It blocked the bra, and mercifully spared her cleavage from being covered. That last bit was just for him, as her cleavage had no chance of showing on the camera.

He was going to ask her to stand up so he could look from a lower angle, but she was starting to fidget uncomfortably. I don’t know if she’s being brave or the System is making her do this, but I shouldn’t draw it out, for her sake.

“We’re in the money, Jessie m’dear.”

“We’re ready?”

“Yep! Everything else looks great, and we’re not going to restyle your hair because it’s perfect like it is. Let’s get this under way! Can I borrow your sheet? I don’t need to cut it or anything.”

“Sure?”

He grabbed it and some tape he’d noticed in her drawer when he grabbed the scissors. Then he dragged her desk chair to the one wall with nothing on it or in front of it, and taped the black sheet along the top of it.”

“It won’t stay up forever, but we’ve got ourselves a backdrop!”

“Such an intuitive young lad you are.”

“Don’t I know it,” he winked.