"Let's be honest," Belial said, a grin winding it's way around his mouth, "it'd look a lot prettier on you."
He walked a little nearer, drew up his height just a little more, held the lingerie up to her as people do in the mirror, tilted his head. "You'd go naturale for this," he said, examining her, leaning in. "Very light makeup. No heels, sorry."
He let go of the piece of clothing, leaving it in her hands, as he moved away again and poured her another modest glass of the white wine. The shoot would be very light, washed out, almost, airy except for the content. Rebecca would be splayed out, fucked out if she could affect the role -- and he knew she could -- languid. His eyes crinkled, holding the glass stem in hand, offering it to her wordlessly.