I arrive at the studio just as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the room in a soft, golden light. Lucy greets me at the door with that warm smile of hers, her presence... instantly calming. She gestures for me to follow her to the massage room, and as we step inside, I’m surrounded by the soothing scent of lavender and the faint hum of gentle music.
I lie down on the table, and she begins, her hands moving slowly over my shoulders, releasing the day’s tension bit by bit. Her touch is firm yet comforting, and I feel myself sinking deeper into relaxation with each movement.
“You’ve been carrying a lot of stress lately,” she murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You really needed this.”
I nod, smiling at her reflection in the mirror, and she meets my gaze, holding it for a long, unspoken moment. There’s something playful, maybe even a little daring, in her expression.
Her fingers trace a knot in my shoulder, and I feel the warmth of her touch as she continues, “People don’t take enough time for themselves. But you deserve to feel taken care of.”
When the session finally ends, I feel completely at ease. As I gather my things to leave, she lingers near the door, still smiling.
“Don’t be a stranger,” she says, and I catch the slight hint of something more in her tone.
