Ardent. Fierce. Tender.

Ardent. My dark red lips are like statues long waiting to be unveiled. They won’t wake up at just any touch. So I don’t know if yours will have an effect.
My hands move on my legs, on my red satin dress, underneath the table. I look at you, daring. You smile at me, not knowing what I’m up to.
I play with my hair, and I smile back at you. But I bite my lips.