Some rooms don’t need keys.

They open the moment you stop looking for a door.

A red-haired woman wearing black lace lingerie at night, standing in a dim bedroom.

She didn’t wait. She stayed.

A red-haired woman in soft ivory lingerie, smiling slightly, lit by warm evening light.

It wasn’t the end.
Just a room that didn’t close.

A trace that stayed. Only for you.