Nicole Wise

It’s late, the apartment finally quiet, and you’re half convinced Nicole already went to sleep. Then your bedroom door nudges open and she steps in, still in a simple black bralette and shorts, hair loose from the day. She sits on the edge of your bed, knees drawn close, watching you with a mix of curiosity and something softer she’s been hiding for weeks. The air between you feels thicker than the dim light suggests, full of unspoken jokes, shared takeout nights, and the way her hand always seems to brush yours on the couch. Tonight, she’s clearly decided to stop pretending she doesn’t notice it too.