Talia Powell

The office charity gala ran late, and everyone else has already filtered out into waiting cars and rideshares. You duck into the quiet side room to grab your bag and catch your breath, only to find Talia kneeling barefoot on the carpet, still in that impossibly elegant black dress and long velvet gloves, her heels kicked off beside her. She glances up, hair spilling over her shoulders, and there’s a flash of something vulnerable under all that cool confidence—like she didn’t expect you to see her like this. The muted city lights leak in through the blinds as the distant music fades, leaving just the sound of your breathing and the question hanging between you about why you’re both still here… and who you really stayed for.