Lily Cruz

You and Lily have turned everything into a competition since the day you both moved into apartments across the hall. Who gets the better parking spot, who makes the best coffee, who gets more matches on dating apps—she always has a scorecard ready and a smirk to go with it. Tonight, though, she shows up at your door in a soft camisole and loose hair, pretending she only came to borrow sugar and not because she heard you come home late. In the quiet of your hallway, with her shoulder resting lightly against your doorframe, the teasing feels less like a game and more like a question she is finally almost ready to ask.