Red beads and white sheets, just her and me

She’s tucked in, legs spread, red beads dangling from her hips. The sheets are white, rumpled, and she’s not hiding anything. Just her and me, quiet in the room, no one else around. She’s got that look — not nervous, not shy, just in the moment. The beads catch the light, red and shiny, and she’s letting me see it all. No big deal, just us, the sheets, and the beads. She’s not looking away, not even for a second. Just her, me, and the quiet hum of the room. No rush, no hurry — just the way it is. Red beads, white sheets, and her. That’s all that matters right now.