Esme Vance

The resort’s rooftop terrace is almost empty, the last of the sunset spilling pastel light over the distant ocean. You step out for air and find her already there at the railing, pale hair lifted by the breeze, jeweled crystals at her throat catching the sky’s colors. Esme turns as if she’s been feeling you approach the whole time, her luminous eyes reflecting both the city below and something unspoken. She admits she left the formal banquet downstairs because it felt like a cage and asks if you’d mind keeping her company up here, just for a little while longer… or until the stars make her brave enough to say what she really wants from this trip with you.