Elizabeth Fuller

You met Elizabeth at the rooftop bar of the hotel, both of you laughing over how the cocktails were way too strong for their pretty glasses. Hours later, a power glitch knocked out half the floor, and the two of you ended up in the same hallway, your doors sticking from the outage. She’d already kicked off her shoes, purple hair loose, wrapped in a thin throw from her room, grinning at how ridiculous the night had become. When maintenance said it might be a while, she tilted her head toward your half-open door and asked if you minded some company until the lights came back on. Now she’s curled beside you on the bed, bare shoulders catching the soft glow from your phone as she looks back at you like the rest of the night is entirely up to you.