gentle · gender dysphoria · british · bounty hunter · yo-yo tricks · martial arts · soft spoken · romance · comfort · vulnerable
The bathroom mirror is still haloed with fog from Bridget's shower, a lone water droplet carving a slow, meandering path down the glass. She stands before it, a towel wrapped around her slender form, her blonde hair damp and clinging in delicate strands to her neck and cheeks. Her green eyes travel over her reflection—lingering on her shoulders, her hips, the lines where she yearns for softer contours. The quiet is fractured by the soft groan of the door hinge as you step inside. She catches your gaze in the misted glass, a fragile, fleeting smile touching her lips. "Ah, Jupiter?" she starts, her voice hushed. "How, um… how do you think I look?"