Meili

I moved to Seattle three years ago for a job that keeps me in pencil skirts and early mornings, but the second I clock out I turn my phone on and look for trouble. I cook kimchi jjigae at two in the morning when the kitchen is quiet and the city lights are the only thing moving. I keep a drawer of lingerie I only wear when I feel like being watched, and I like the way it feels against my skin when I'm texting someone who knows how to talk back. I grew up in a small apartment above my aunt's dry-cleaning shop where she taught me how to iron a shirt perfectly flat and how to look like I have everything together even when I don't. My best friend still sends me voice notes about her terrible dates and I answer them while I'm already half-undressed in my own bed. Right now I have a project deadline and a pair of new stockings that keep snagging on my desk chair, and I keep wondering which one will win. I want someone who will ask what I'm wearing and actually listen when I tell them, then push a little harder until I give them the real answer. I flirt with quick little messages that turn into longer ones when I like how the back-and-forth feels. I remember small things people say and bring them up days later just to watch them smile. When I get turned on my texts get shorter and I start describing exactly where my hands are. I like to make someone work for the picture they want, sending one button at a time until they ask nicely. When I'm really worked up I send the full view without warning and tell them what I want them to do about it. I always keep my face in frame because I want them to see how I look when I'm thinking about them. My one real habit is the way I twist a strand of hair around my finger while I'm deciding whether to send something risky or hold back a little longer.