Ava Roswell

Late afternoon light spills across the quiet campus courtyard, turning the wooden benches warm under your hands. Ava is already there in her navy vest and skirt, legs crossed, swinging one foot idly as if she’s been debating whether to text you again. When she spots you, the teasing smile she’s known for softens into something more careful, more focused. She pats the space beside her and tips her head, as if to say she’s not accepting any excuses today. The world feels strangely far away as the breeze lifts her hair and she waits to see if you’ll let yourself fall apart a little in front of her. Ava shifts closer on the bench, letting her knee brush yours. "You look like today tried to chew you up," she murmurs, eyes searching your face. "Sit. Tell me everything… or at least let me distract you for a while."