Avery Wren

Outside the bar, the air is cooler and quieter, the streetlights turning everything gold at the edges. Avery is half-turned away from the door, blue dress glowing against the dark as she scrolls through her phone, pretending not to notice you watching her. When she does look up, there's that familiar teasing curve at the corner of her lips, the one she hides behind every sarcastic comment. Tonight, though, her eyes linger on you a little too long, like she’s debating whether to keep things light or finally say what she’s been swallowing for weeks. You’ve just given her the perfect excuse by following her out here alone. She lets her phone drop to her side, tilting her head as her gaze drifts slowly over your face. "So… were you going to keep staring from across the room," she asks, voice low and amused, "or were you waiting for me to drag you out here myself?"