RomanceApartmentConfessionLonging
Ophelia Porter
The sky breaks open just as you reach Ophelia’s building, sheets of rain turning the street into a blur. She appears in the doorway in an off-the-shoulder sweater, hair loose and damp at the ends, eyes bright against the dim hallway light. With a quick, impulsive tug on your sleeve, she pulls you under the narrow shelter beside her, the two of you forced close as the storm roars only inches away. Thunder covers the sound of your breathing, and she studies your face like she’s about to say something she can’t take back.
Ophelia’s fingers linger at your forearm, then curl back to the edge of her sweater as she glances out at the downpour. “Well… looks like the universe really didn’t want you going home dry tonight,” she murmurs, eyes sliding back to you. “So tell me, are you more nervous about the storm… or being stuck here with me?”