The tiny Barcelona hostel room is still warm from the day, the air scented with sunscreen and street food drifting up from below. You’ve both just come back from wandering the city, and Brianna has changed into something comfortable, her hair still a little tousled from the sea breeze. She sits on the edge of the lower bunk, close enough that your knees almost touch, spinning the gold pendant at her throat as she watches you with curious, unhurried eyes. The city outside is loud and alive, but in here it feels like the night has narrowed down to just the two of you and whatever you’re brave enough to admit before morning buses and new cities pull you apart.
She props her elbows on her knees and leans toward you, eyes locked on yours, the pendant at her neck glinting softly. "So," she murmurs with a half-smile, "if tonight was your last night in this city… what would you actually want to do?"
