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Scharline stood in front of the mirror, bathed in the dim light of the room.
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She was wearing a gray, cropped tank top—its loose fabric barely clinging to her shoulders, brushing lightly against her skin. The material hugged her body just enough to hint at her shape, revealing more than it concealed. Her red-and-white checkered pajama bottoms had slipped slightly below her waist, the elastic band resting lower, accentuating the curve of her hips and the slender line of her waist. Every contour of her body moved with a natural, soft harmony.
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As she raised her hands above her head and gently clasped her wrists, the elegant and supple lines of her figure became even more pronounced. When her shoulders stretched, faint shadows of her muscles surfaced beneath her skin in delicate traces. A few strands of blonde hair cascaded down the side of her neck, highlighting the sharp angles of her face. Her lips were slightly parted, her gaze fixed directly on the mirror.
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There was a question lingering in this moment.
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Lately… things had been changing.
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She examined her reflection more closely.
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Lisa’s words from that night still echoed in her mind: "If you don’t know how to use your mind, at least learn how to use your body."
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Those words felt like a challenge. She wasn’t sure whether to believe in herself or in what others told her. But the uncertainty within her had already begun unraveling.
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Her eyes narrowed slightly.
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If Braun was interested in her, could she turn it into an advantage? And what about Ethan?
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He had always been there. Yet he acted as if he never noticed.
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Scharline took a deep breath, lowering her hands to her waist with deliberate slowness. Her fingers traced the elastic band of her pajama bottoms, pulling it up slightly before letting it go. It wasn’t just a movement—it was the outward expression of a thought, testing how far she was willing to go.
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She turned back to her reflection.
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She was no longer the innocent girl they thought she was.
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They looked at her and assumed they saw one person, but… another woman was awakening inside.
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Finally, with a faint smile, she whispered to her reflection: "Maybe it’s time."
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Breaking Point
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Scharline remained still in front of the mirror. Her expression was unreadable—neither satisfaction nor hesitation… just an unshaped, undefined feeling stirring within her. A challenge, the strange thrill of self-discovery, and perhaps the seductive confidence that came with taking control.
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She inhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling.
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The mirror didn’t just show a reflection—it felt as though someone was watching her.
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Raising a hand, she ran her long fingers through her hair, sliding from the roots down to the silky strands that framed her neck. She paused there, feeling the warmth of her skin against her fingertips. Her awareness of her body was sharper than usual.
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She studied her reflection more intently. The curves, the posture of her body, the slight slope of her shoulders, the narrowness of her waist… It felt as though she was looking at herself from a distance.
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Lately, she had noticed. The way people looked at her. The way their eyes lingered on her.
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And more importantly, the power she had over it.
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But how should she use that power? As a tool? Or as a weapon?
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She murmured to herself, without resisting the thought:
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"Why not?"
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The idea burned like a spark in her mind.
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Without a second of hesitation, Scharline reached for her phone. Her fingers glided across the screen, opening the camera. She scanned her reflection through the lens, adjusting her expression—more alluring, more inviting.
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She controlled the depth in her eyes, the curve of her lips, the poise of her shoulders.
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First picture… second… third…
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With each shot, she studied how the light touched her skin, how it defined the contours of her body.
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But the last one… She made it bolder.
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Taking a deep breath, she looked at the screen. For a moment, she hesitated. But something inside her urged her to take it one step further.
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She began typing a message to Lisa.
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🖤 "Save me a spot as a future model, Lisa."
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She attached the photos and pressed send.
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For a few seconds, she held the phone in her hand, closing her eyes. Pressing send felt like crossing an invisible boundary.
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Just seconds later…
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💋 "Girl, you were born to be a star!"
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Lisa’s message came with a flood of laughing emojis.
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Scharline reread the message before turning off her phone.
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She knew Lisa meant it as a joke. But the words left a question lingering in her mind.
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Maybe Lisa was right. Maybe an entirely new path was unfolding for Scharline.
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She looked at her reflection in the mirror once more.
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And this time, she didn’t see uncertainty… She smiled with a clear sense of determination.
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As a faint smile played on her lips, her fingers reached for the hem of her gray tank top. The fabric lifted in a slow, delicate motion, slipping over her head and onto the floor. Her half-loosened pajama bottoms clung loosely to her hips. As she raised her arms again, the dim light cast shadows over her toned muscles.
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She paused. Her skin was still warm from the heat gathered in her room overnight. But now… she knew all those thoughts would wash away under the water.
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Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the room, her bare feet meeting the cold floor, sending a shiver through her body. She moved towards the bathroom, a strange sense of calm settling inside her. She pushed the door open, stepping into the soft contrast between the cold tiles and the misty warmth of the shower glass.
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She turned on the faucet.
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As the first drops hit the ceramic surface, her fingers undid the thin straps, letting her pajamas slide to the floor. She stepped into the shower, the warmth of the water touching her toes before enveloping her in a soothing embrace.
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She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as the water caressed every inch of her skin. Her wet hair clung to her back as her mind emptied for a brief moment.
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Wrapped in steam, she picked up her phone, its bright screen reflecting in her eyes. Her fingertips were still wet, droplets trailing down as she touched the screen. The phone was slippery in her damp hands, but the message holding her attention was Braun’s.
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"Good morning, did you sleep well?"
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Braun…
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As she stared at the glowing words, conflicting thoughts surfaced.
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Braun’s intentions were clear. He always moved like a hunter—casual, arrogant, and confident in what he wanted.
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But Scharline?
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For her, Braun was something uncertain. One moment, he intrigued her. The next, he repelled her. Some days, she enjoyed the way his gaze lingered on her. Other days, she despised seeing through his games.
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This strange push and pull made everything feel unbalanced.
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Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Should she play along or remain indifferent?
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Finally, with the hint of a smirk, she typed:
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"Not bad. But don’t expect me to say I was dreaming of you."
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She pressed send, feeling as though she had both drawn him in and set a boundary.
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Placing her phone down on the counter, she took another deep breath and turned back to the shower.
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The water was still running, steam wrapping around the bathroom. She stepped forward, the warmth of the tiles seeping into her feet. As the hot drops cascaded over her shoulders, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes.
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Braun’s message echoed somewhere in her mind, but she pushed it away.
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Soap slipped through her fingers as she ran her hands along her arms, then over her shoulders. With the warm water heightening her senses, every drop melted tension from her muscles.
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Opening her eyes again, she barely recognized her reflection in the misty glass.
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She knew what Braun was thinking. His intentions were obvious.
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But Scharline…
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She wasn’t sure where she stood in this game.
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Running her fingers through her wet hair, she took another deep breath as the water cascaded down her neck and shoulders like a delicate veil.
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For now, there was no need to think.
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For now, she just wanted to enjoy the warmth of the water.
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Beyond the Steam
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After spending several minutes under the warm water, Scharline reached for the faucet and turned it off. Dense steam filled the bathroom, completely fogging up the mirrors. She took a deep breath and wiped away the condensation with her hand, but her reflection still appeared hazy.
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Slowly, she picked up her robe and wrapped it around her body. The fabric clung to her damp skin, still warm from the shower. The soft, loose texture of the white robe hugged her moist body, its upper part slightly open and the ties loosely knotted, leaving the tops of her breasts and her neck delicately exposed. Strands of her wet hair draped over her shoulders. A few droplets of water trickled down from her neck, disappearing into the hollow of her chest.
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She didn’t tie the belt tightly. Leaving the robe slightly loose, she noticed how it barely concealed her figure—but she didn’t care. Her body was still relaxed from the heat, her mind pleasantly foggy.
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When she opened the door, a wave of warm air spilled out of the bathroom.
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The cool air of the hallway hit her skin instantly, sending a shiver down her spine. The soles of her feet tingled against the chilly floor.
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Just as she was about to head to her room…
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The sound of a door opening.
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She turned her head and saw Tom stepping out of his room.
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Tom emerged from his room wearing only a pair of boxers, his erection evident beneath the fabric, pressing against it noticeably. He looked like he had just woken up—his hair tousled, his expression groggy as he shuffled toward the bathroom. In the dim lighting of the hallway, his lean, toned muscles stood out sharply, a testament to his transformation from boyhood to manhood over the years.
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When he saw Scharline, he froze for a moment. His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds, taking her in. Her loosely tied robe, its upper part slightly parted, the damp strands of hair clinging to her skin… His sister Scharline’s provocative beauty, even if unintentional, intensified his arousal, making his erection more pronounced beneath the boxers. It was an involuntary reaction, a pull he couldn’t control as his gaze traced her form.
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Scharline, however, seemed oddly at ease during those moments. Even if she noticed Tom’s evident arousal, she acted as though she hadn’t, maintaining an air of calm indifference. With a serene smile, she said, "Good morning. Are you taking a shower?" Her voice was natural and casual, as if this were just an ordinary morning encounter in the hallway.
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Tom swallowed hard, caught off guard. "Yeah… Good morning," he replied, his voice slightly shaky. He forced his eyes away from her, glancing down at the floor, though his mind remained fixated on her skin and the exquisite details of her chest visible beneath the robe. "I’m… heading to the shower," he added quickly, eager to end the brief exchange. He turned and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
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Scharline continued toward her room without looking back, her expression still calm and composed. Tom, now alone in the bathroom, paused for a moment. He slipped off his boxers, letting them fall to the floor, and glanced down at his hardened erection. His fingers brushed against it, then began to stroke slowly. Closing his eyes, he pictured Scharline—her skin beneath the loosely tied robe, the delicate contours of her breasts. His breathing quickened as he lost himself in the fantasy, torn between guilt and desire.
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Scharline, back in her room, closed the door and faced the mirror. Her robe remained loose, droplets of water still clinging to her skin. But the only thing on her mind…
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Was the way Tom had looked at her.
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