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Ethan stops when he sees a picture of Heather. It's a simple mirror selfie, one that doesn't seem intended to look particularly sexy, but it also doesn't seem designed to hide her curves.

L: Oh my. That natural?

H: Yea...

H: Most 20 year olds don't have fake tits...

L: I meant your hair. It's very red.

H: O.

H: Yeah, it's natural.

L: It's very beautiful. How did Ethan bag a girl like you?

H: Shuuush you.

H: So what do you think?

L: I mean, it's nice if you're going to church or something.

H: Hmmmmmmm

A second picture, Heather again in front of the same mirror. She's changed her top, this time wearing a slightly more form-fitting one that really makes her chest pop.

H: Better?

L: Better, but you're trying too hard.

H: Why am I taking fashion advice from you again?

Another picture, this one of Layla and clearly taken from her bathroom. She's wearing a familiar-looking T-shirt, which does nothing to hide just how huge her chest is.

H: Ah.

L: That's why. Lol

H: Well I mean you have a huge advantage.

L: Do you not own just some plain shirts? Slightly undersized ones of course.

H: No. I mean I don't have two weapons of mass destruction attached to my chest.

L: Oh, don't be modest. You looked plenty busty.

H: I mean, but normal person standards sure.

H: How do you carry those things around?

L: Lots of practice. But seriously, you can't be all that much smaller than I am.

A second Layla picture, this time her shirt is hiked up, revealing her bra-bound chest more plainly. Ethan feels himself twitch, the image stirring up something in him.

H: Fuuuck.

H: Yeah no I cant compete.

H: Btw, why is your shower curtain so low?

L: It's not?

H: You're like towering over it.

L: Yeah.... Sweetie, I'm 6'1.

H: Seriously?!

L: Lol. Yup.

H: Holy shit. Snu-Snu much?

L: Pardon?

Another picture, this one of Heather, and this time with her shirt just off. She's wearing a bra Ethan had seen many times, a lacy red one that compliments her hair and her bosom.

L: Oh, see you are quite endowed!

H: Yeyeye, but as you can plainly see I'm mangos to your watermelons.

L: I'm not that chesty, dear...

The conversation becomes oddly flat considering the subject matter, quickly turning uninteresting.