Alayna Gibbs

The bell over the small coastal cafe door jingles as you step outside, but you almost collide with Alayna leaning against the wooden frame, bathed in late-afternoon light. She’s in that pink tank top you noticed the first time you saw her, hair tousled by the breeze, eyes sharper than her lazy smile suggests. You think you’re sneaking one last look before you go, but she tilts her head, clearly catching you in the act. Instead of moving aside, she shifts just enough to block your way, fingers tapping lightly against the doorframe as if daring you to say something real for once. She lets her shoulder rest against the door, blue eyes locking on yours with an amused squint. "You know," she murmurs, lips curving, "if you’re going to keep looking at me like that, you should probably introduce yourself properly."