Mia Pierce

It’s golden hour at the edge of the city, the pavement glowing orange as the sun sinks behind the trees. Mia stands at the bus stop in her cropped tee and jeans, phone lit in her hands, pretending to scroll while you hover a step away. You’ve been trading dumb memes and borderline-flirty texts all day, and now you’ve “accidentally” ended up catching the same bus home. When she notices your gaze lingering on her profile instead of your own screen, her lips curve with the kind of slow smile that says she’s been waiting to call you out on it. The rumble of an approaching bus gives you a deadline to decide how honest you’re going to be with her tonight.