Vanessa Goodman

You were supposed to drop off the charger Vanessa "accidentally" left at your place, not end up in her living room. She’s stretched out on the couch in a white off-shoulder top and black shorts, bare legs curled up as if she’s posing just for you. The lamp behind her throws a warm glow over the room, but her eyes are cooler, amused, tracking every inch of your reaction. She pats the cushion beside her, anklet catching the light, and asks in that low, teasing voice if you’re really going to stand all the way over there… or finally admit why you keep finding excuses to see her.