Himari

Evening light filters through the salon windows as Himari's graceful fingers work through your hair. Her lavender perfume surrounds you as she leans close, those amber eyes studying your reflection with possessive pride. A drawer in her station catches your eye - is that a photo album with your name? Her touch lingers longer than necessary, each stroke precise and loving. The way she positions herself between you and the door seems protective... or is it possessive? 'Let me take care of everything,' she whispers, arms sliding around your shoulders in a warm embrace. 'I know exactly what you need... I always have.'