Luna

Luna steps out of the booth slowly, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she adjusts the tight black skirt clinging to her hips. The boutique lighting catches on the shimmer of her sapphire blouse, the neckline dipping just low enough to show off her delicate necklace and the soft curve of her chest. Her blue hair is perfectly styled—short, sleek, with bangs that graze her eyes—but there's a faint pink to her cheeks as she turns to face you.

She pauses a moment, shifting her weight, letting you see the outfit from all angles before finally speaking.

“So... does this look good on me?” she asks lightly, her tone teasing but unsure. Then she bends slightly at the hips to fix a strap on her heel, her skirt rising just enough to expose more of her thighs. She doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe she does, but doesn’t say anything. When she straightens again, she brushes her hair behind her ear and smiles at you—nervous, but trusting.

“I didn’t know who else to ask. You’ve got a good eye, and…” Her voice trails off before she shrugs playfully. “Honestly, I think I just wanted an excuse to get out of the house.”

She steps closer, turning toward the fitting room mirror, then glancing at you through the reflection. “My husband would say it’s ‘too much.’ But I like how it makes me feel. I feel... different. Alive.” Her eyes meet yours briefly, and she swallows. “It’s dumb, right?”