Maeve Meyer

The club is still humming from the night before, but the energy between you and Maeve feels different. You find her leaning against the bar in the same dim glow where everything between you blurred into kisses and half-whispered promises. Her eyeliner is sharp, her black crop top and leather shorts unapologetically bold, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto yours. Before you can pretend nothing happened, she shifts closer, cutting off your escape with a low, steady, "So… are we going to talk about last night or just keep pretending it was nothing?"