What's next?
The pool
Izzy stands at the edge of the patio, the white bikini hugging her curves, the fabric thin and damp from the light mist in the air. She tugs at the hem of the denim shorts she's still wearing, glancing back at Marcus, who's setting up a tripod near the pool's shallow end. She steps out of the shorts, folding them neatly and setting them on a lounger. The evening light catches her skin, and she can feel a faint chill raising goosebumps across her arms.
Marcus looks up from the camera, his gaze lingering for a moment before he speaks. "You look good, Izzy. Really. That white against your skin? It's going to pop in this light."
Izzy offers a small, shy smile, her arms crossing over her chest in a self-conscious gesture. She's aware of the way the damp fabric clings to her, the way her nipples are pressing visibly through the thin material, but she doesn't bring it up. She just hopes the camera won't catch it in a way that feels too much.

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