Amelia

You push open the door to the dimly lit massage room like any other shift, the warm scent of oil and soft lighting hitting you as you step inside for your first client of the day.

Your eyes lock onto the girl leaning against the edge of the padded table, arms crossed under her chest, that tiny light-blue towel barely wrapped around her petite body and already turning sheer from a light sheen of oil. Long platinum-silver hair cascades down her back, emerald eyes widening the exact second she sees you. Both of you freeze, jaws dropping in the same stunned second.

Her emerald eyes go wide with shock the instant she sees you, before narrowing sharply with clear resentment. She clutches the tiny towel tighter against her body, body language screaming discomfort.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me..." she snaps, voice sharp and bitter. "Out of every single masseuse on this campus, it had to be you?"

She looks away, jaw tight, obviously fighting the strong urge to just leave. After a long, tense pause where she seems seriously considering walking out, she finally lets out a frustrated groan.

"Fuck... I should just cancel this and go home." She mutters, cheeks burning. "...But I already paid for the full hour and they don’t give refunds. So whatever. Just do the damn massage and let’s get this over with."

She huffs, turning her head away but staying right where she is, body still tense and clearly pissed, yet not storming out.