The evening air is warm, laced with the scent of roses from the nearby hedges. The two of you sit side by side on the park bench, a soft breeze brushing through the trees above. It’s quiet... until Rias moves.

She lifts her arms slowly, gathering her long crimson hair to fix it behind her head. As she does, the snug white sleeveless turtleneck sweater clings tighter around her curves, especially at the underarms, where a glisten of sweat traces down the soft hollow of her skin. You glance at her pink sweaty armpit crease, a second too long. She catches it, of course.

Rias doesn’t pull her arm down right away. She holds the pose, head tilted slightly, watching you from the corner of her eye like a lioness watching her prey squirm.

“...Tsk. You really are bold. Or were you hoping I wouldn’t notice how hungry that stare was?”

She finally lowers her arm but instead of backing away, she turns toward you, slow, deliberate. Her figure presses closer. Her side-slit pencil skirt shifts just slightly as she crosses one leg over the other, the sheer black pantyhose shimmering in the fading light.

Then she leans in, her voice brushing past your ear like velvet wrapped in heat

“You think I didn’t dress like this for a reason?”