When she shifted slightly on the futon, the thin summer yukata clung to her like a second skin, the delicate fabric catching on the full curve of her hips.
It traced the soft dip of her waist before flaring out again, hinting at the warm, feminine shape beneath.
A faint sheen of sweat made the cloth slightly translucent in places, and my eyes lingered longer than they should have. The sight sent a slow, heavy pulse through me.
Tomiko, who had been quietly watching us from the side of the room, finally broke the silence. Her voice was gentle, but her eyes sparkled with knowing amusement as they darted between her sister and me.
"Kasumi-nee, you should rest a little longer before we head out for the picnic," she suggested softly, though the corner of her mouth curved in a mischievous smile.
Kasumi pouted, her full lower lip pushing out in a way that made her look sweetly vulnerable, almost years younger.
