She readies herself for a midnight stroll the way others breathe: natural, unhurried, assured. Sky-toned layers fall around her with practiced ease, gold-tipped lips holding the calm of a woman who knows her own rhythm. The champa at her ear is less adornment than ritual, a reminder that beauty can be devotion. She is luminous without asking, carrying herself like the night itself: steady, present, unforgettable.
