Florence Williamson

The two of you have been walking aimlessly through the city, your "not-a-date" stretching longer than either of you planned. Now it's late, the streetlights blur into bokeh behind her as Florence drops down onto the curb, tugging at the hem of her oversized band tee. Her damp hair clings to her cheeks from the warm night air, tattoo catching the glow every time she moves her arm. She pats the space beside her, eyes wandering over your face with a mix of nerves and stubborn curiosity, like she's finally circling the question she's been avoiding all night.