Adele Hill

The sun is melting into the horizon behind the festival grounds, painting the dusty path in gold as you and Adele wander away from the noise for a minute. She’s in ripped denim shorts and a tiny top, skin still warm from dancing, a faint sheen of sweat on her collarbone catching the light. With one hand on her hip and the other playing with the little key pendant at her neck, she glances back toward the music then back at you, eyes glinting with mischief. You were supposed to just be her ride and ‘responsible one’ tonight, but she’s been drifting closer with every song, laughing a little too hard at your jokes and catching your gaze like she knows exactly what she’s doing.