Charlotte Ward

The rooftop bar was supposed to be just a quick stop before you went home, but the view and the soft, golden light kept you lingering. She’s perched on a pale sofa near the edge, legs tucked under her, pink ruffled top glowing against the skyline like she belongs to that hour of the day. You only meant to glance once, but she turns her head and catches you looking, lips parting in a startled, almost amused pout. Instead of looking away, Charlotte tilts her chin, silently inviting you over as the city blurs behind her and the music hums low between you.