**ALEX’S POV**
I was halfway through a rerun of some cooking competition when the thud hit.
It was solid, sharp—glass meeting bone.
My head snapped toward the balcony doors.
For a second I just sat there on the couch, remote still in my hand, wondering if a bird had kamikazed into the glass again.
Then I saw her.
Lilith.
She was pressed up against the sliding door from the outside, forehead still resting where she’d collided with it.
All she had on was a plain black bra and matching underwear.
The kind that didn’t try to hide anything.
Her round, full breasts were flattened against the cool glass, the soft weight of them spreading slightly under the pressure.
Lower down, the curve of her ass—high, round, and perky—was on full display as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
She looked at me through the glass with that half-lidded, openly perverted expression she wore more often than not these days.
A little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth even as she rubbed her nose.
I stood up before I really thought about it.
The apartment wasn’t big.
One living room that opened straight onto the narrow balcony, a kitchenette to the left, two bedrooms and a shared bathroom down the short hall.
When I’d first moved in three weeks ago, the place had felt almost too quiet.
Then Lilith started treating the entire apartment like her personal changing room.
I walked over and unlocked the door, sliding it open.
“What happened?” I asked.
She stepped inside, still holding her nose with one hand.
The air from outside was warmer than the AC, and it carried the faint scent of her—something clean and faintly sweet, mixed with whatever body lotion she’d used that morning.
“I was trying to open the door,” she said, voice a little nasally, “and I accidentally hit myself.” She dropped her hand and looked at me properly.
“Yeah, I know I’m in my underwear… I didn’t think you were going to be home so soon.”
A faint flush colored her cheeks, but it didn’t stop her from standing there like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Her bra was simple, no lace or anything fancy, just black fabric that cupped her breasts and pushed them up just enough that the soft upper curves spilled over the tops.
The shape of them was round and heavy, the kind that looked like they’d fill a pair of hands completely.
Her nipples were faintly visible through the material.
I forced my eyes up to her face.
“I hope I didn’t… see that,” I muttered, already knowing how stupid it sounded.
Lilith’s mouth curved into a slow, teasing smile.
“Hey, don’t be so prudish…” She tilted her head, dark hair—shoulder-length, a little messy from the wind—falling against her neck.
“What, haven’t you ever seen a girl in her underwear before?”
I scratched the back of my neck, feeling heat crawl up my own face.
“Actually, no.
In my family, well…”
The teasing look on her face softened for a second.
She studied me, arms crossing under her chest in a way that only made everything more obvious.
The motion lifted her breasts higher against the thin fabric.
“…Wait, seriously?
Your family was that strict?” She leaned against the doorframe, one hip cocked.
“Man, no wonder you’re acting all flustered…”
I kept my gaze locked somewhere around her collarbone.
It was safer.
“Look, you are a—” My eyes slipped for half a second, landing on the deep line of cleavage before I dragged them back up.
“—the thing is, you’re my roommate.
I should respect your privacy.
I can stay in my room.”
Lilith let out a soft chuckle.
It was low and warm, and it did something uncomfortable to the pit of my stomach.
She watched me the way someone watches a skittish animal, amused but not unkind.
“You’re cute when you try so hard to act like a gentleman,” she said.
“I appreciate the gesture, but come on, it’s not a big deal.
We live together, so you’re going to catch me in my underwear a lot, y’know…?”
She wasn’t wrong.
In the three weeks since she’d moved in, I’d already walked in on her in various states of undress more times than I could count.
Once in the kitchen making coffee in nothing but an oversized shirt that barely covered her ass.
Once coming out of the bathroom with a towel that somehow never quite stayed closed.
And more than once just like this—wandering around the apartment in her bra and panties like clothes were optional.
I took a step back, putting a little more space between us.
“Still.
I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You’re the one who’s uncomfortable,” she pointed out, smiling again.
“I’m fine.”
She stayed where she was, one shoulder against the frame, watching me with those dark eyes.
I still didn’t know exactly what color they were—something between brown and hazel that shifted with the light.
Right now they looked almost black, focused entirely on me.
The silence stretched.
Outside, a car horn sounded faintly from the street below.
Somewhere in the building a door slammed.
Normal apartment noises.
The kind of everyday background that made the whole situation feel even stranger.
I cleared my throat.
“Do you… need ice for your nose?”
Lilith touched it lightly, testing.
“It’s fine.
Just stung for a second.” She dropped her hand and straightened up.
“You’re really going to go hide in your room over this?”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Sure you’re not.” She took a step closer.
Not enough to crowd me, but enough that I could smell her skin more clearly.
“You know, most guys would’ve already said something by now.
Or at least stared properly.”
I felt my ears burn.
“I’m trying not to.”
“I noticed.” Her voice dropped a little, softer.
“It’s kind of sweet.
In a painful way.”
She reached out and flicked the light switch next to the door, turning on the warmer overhead light.
It caught on the smooth skin of her stomach, the gentle dip of her navel, the way the waistband of her panties sat low on her hips.
Her body wasn’t model-thin or anything extreme—just soft and full in the places that mattered.
Round breasts that moved when she breathed.
An ass that filled out the back of those simple black panties in a way that made it hard to look anywhere else for long.
I looked away again.
Lilith sighed, the sound more playful than annoyed.
“Hey…” She waited until I glanced back.
“Fine, fine.
I’ll put on a shirt or something if it makes you uncomfortable.” She muttered the next part under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear.
“Though I bet he totally looked…”
I had.
Of course I had.
Every time my eyes slipped, they catalogued more details than I wanted to admit.
The way her breasts pressed together when she crossed her arms.
The soft jiggle when she shifted her weight.
The smooth stretch of skin between the bottom of her bra and the top of her panties.
The high, rounded shape of her ass when she turned even slightly.
I took another step back toward the hallway.
“I’m going to… finish the show.
Or something.”
“Coward,” she said lightly, but there was no real heat in it.
She moved past me toward the short hall that led to our rooms, and I caught the full view of her from behind for a few seconds—the sway of her hips, the way those panties clung to the curve of her ass, the faint marks the elastic left on her skin.
She paused at her door and looked over her shoulder.
“For the record, I don’t mind if you look.
Just so you know.”
Then she disappeared into her room, leaving the door half-open.
I stood there in the living room for a long moment, heart beating harder than the situation should have warranted.
The cooking show was still playing on mute behind me.
The balcony door was still open a few inches, letting in the late afternoon air.
I walked over and closed it, then dropped back onto the couch.
My eyes stayed fixed on the television, but I wasn’t really seeing it.
Three weeks.
That was all it had been.
Three weeks of Lilith treating the apartment like her own private stage, and me trying—and mostly failing—to act like a respectful roommate instead of a guy who’d grown up in a house where even the word “underwear” felt like something you weren’t supposed to say out loud.
I could still smell her on the air.
Could still picture the way her breasts had looked crushed against the glass, the soft, heavy shape of them, the faint outline of her nipples.
The way she’d smiled when she caught me looking and not looking at the same time.
From down the hall I heard the soft sound of a drawer opening, then closing.
A few seconds later Lilith’s voice floated out, casual and amused.
“I’m putting on a shirt, by the way.
Happy now?”
I didn’t answer.
I wasn’t sure I could keep my voice steady.
A moment later she reappeared in the living room doorway, now wearing an oversized white T-shirt that fell to mid-thigh.
It didn’t really hide much.
The thin fabric still showed the clear outline of her bra, and when she moved the hem rode up just enough to flash the bottom curve of her ass.
She flopped down on the other end of the couch, legs curled under her, and reached for the remote.
“What are we watching?” she asked, like nothing had happened.
I glanced at her.
The shirt had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the black strap of her bra and a smooth stretch of collarbone.
Her hair was still a little messy.
She looked comfortable.
Completely at ease in a way I couldn’t imagine ever being.
“Cooking competition,” I said.
“Boring.” She flipped through a few channels, then settled on some random reality show.
“This is better.”
We sat there in the quiet of the apartment, the only sounds the television and the occasional car passing outside.
Every so often I felt her eyes on me.
Not constant.
Just little glances, like she was checking to see if I was still wound tight.
I was.
After a while she stretched, arms over her head, the motion lifting the hem of the shirt higher on her thighs.
“You know,” she said without looking at me, “you’re allowed to relax.
I’m not going to jump you or anything.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” She turned her head, resting her cheek against the back of the couch so she could watch me.
“Because you look like you’re about five seconds from bolting to your room every time I breathe.”
I let out a short breath that was almost a laugh.
“Old habits.”
“Strict family,” she repeated, softer this time.
“Yeah.
You mentioned.”
She didn’t push for more details.
I was grateful for that.
The less I had to explain about the house I’d grown up in, the better.
Some things were easier left vague.
Lilith shifted again, tucking her legs up and resting her chin on her knees.
The position made the shirt ride up even more.
I kept my eyes on the screen.
“I’m not trying to mess with you,” she said after a minute.
“Not really.
I just… don’t see the point in being weird about bodies.
We’re both adults.
We live in the same place.
It’s going to happen.”
“I get that.”
“But it still bothers you.”
I didn’t answer right away.
The truth was more complicated than yes or no.
It bothered me that I noticed.
It bothered me that part of me didn’t want her to cover up.
It bothered me that three weeks in and I already felt the shape of her presence in every room.
“I’m working on it,” I said finally.
Lilith hummed, a low thoughtful sound.
Then she reached over and lightly poked my arm with one finger.
“Well, when you figure it out, let me know.
Until then, I’ll try to wear actual clothes more often.
Deal?”
“Deal.”
She smiled, small and genuine this time, and turned back to the television.
We stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon—her half-curled on her end of the couch in that thin white shirt, me trying not to think about the black underwear still underneath it, the quiet of the apartment wrapping around us like something almost normal.
Almost.
Every time she shifted, every time the fabric moved against her skin, the tension sat right there between us, warm and unspoken.
She didn’t push it further.
I didn’t run to my room.
But I knew—both of us knew—that the line she’d drawn today was thin, and that she was already testing how far she could lean over it without breaking it completely.
And the worst part was, I wasn’t sure how long I’d keep wanting her to stop.