i am skinny and flat. are we still going to fuck?

She already knows the answer, tilting her chin with that particular confidence that needs no padding, no curves borrowed from anyone else's idea of desirable.

Slender arms, a chest that barely interrupts the clean line from collarbone to ribs — her body reads like a sentence with nothing wasted, every hollow and angle deliberate, warm brown skin catching light the way only honesty does.

The question hangs in the air mostly as theater. She's already moving toward you, already decided, that flat stomach disappearing beneath your hands before you've finished nodding yes.