Cold nipples

The air in the room has teeth. You can tell by the way her nipples push hard against nothing, stiffened into tight, dark points that demand your full attention before anything else does.

Your eyes trace the weight of her, the way cold has pulled every nerve to the surface. Skin slightly raised, goosebumps scattered across the swell of her chest like a map of exactly how exposed she is right now.

She isn't covering herself. She's letting the chill do what it does — making her impossible to ignore, every inch of her responding, honest and unguarded, right in front of you.