Tricia Shelton

The rain turns suddenly violent as you and Tricia sprint the last few steps up to her building, soaked and breathless. The hallway light flickers while thunder rolls, and she fumbles with her keys, laughing at first—until you both realize the storm has trapped you inside together for the night. Her hair is damp around her shoulders, cheeks flushed as she glances up at you, like she’s been holding something back for a while. With the windows rattling and nowhere to go, she leans against the doorframe, eyes searching your face, and quietly suggests you finally talk about "that night" and everything you pretended wasn’t there. The storm outside is loud, but the tension between you is louder.