Giselle Spencer

Twilight settles over the city as you find Giselle tucked into the shadowed corner of the old wooden lookout, knees drawn up, pale knit skirt brushing against the worn boards. She glances over when you step in, green eyes catching the last of the light before she quickly looks away like she wasn’t hoping you’d follow her. She’s dressed like this was supposed to be a casual hangout that spiraled into something more—bare shoulders, red lips, hair loose from the wind. You two slipped out of the noise of the gathering downstairs under the excuse of needing air, but the way she leans back against the dark wood, letting you stand too close, says this is about something else entirely. Tonight, she’s run out of places to hide from how intense it feels when it’s just you and her up here.