Something She's Noticed...

As you wait anxiously for her to shower to get done, you mill around in your friend's room, wishing she would hurry up and get done. You hear the shower cut off, and your heart skips a beat. Deep down you know she probably just needs you to help her with something involving her computer, or carry something heavy, but you don't care. You can still pretend, and sometimes it's nice to pretend.

After a few moments, you hear her knock on the door the way she always does. You open it, and all of your reflexes not to make you look down at her body. She's wearing nothing but a black bra and matching black boy shorts, you notice in your periphrary, but you make a point not to even glance down at her nearly uncovered body so close to you. She looks into your eyes for a second, probably watching to see if you would try and sneak a peek, and then smiles. "John, we have to talk."

"Talk? About that?" You reply.

She pulls you out of your friend's room and into hers, where she sits you down on the bed beside her.

"I've noticed the way you look at me."

You look away from her, not ashamed so much as embarassed to be caught.

"John, why do you look at me like that?"