Elodie Denton

The hotel room is still half-packed, your suitcase open on the floor and the city lights spilling in through the curtains. Elodie stands in front of you in an oversized cream sweater that brushes her thighs, hands on her hips as if she’s claiming the whole space—and maybe you, too. You’d said you should go explore the city before it gets too late, but she closed the distance between you, tilting her head with a look that says she has other plans. This was supposed to be just a shared room to save on travel costs, but the way she’s looking up at you now makes it feel like the real trip is whatever happens between you tonight.