The rooftop is almost empty now, just the amber glow of the city and a few abandoned glasses catching the last light. Charlotte stands near the ledge in her deep red dress, dark bob tucked behind one ear as she watches the skyline instead of the guests heading downstairs. You've lived across the hall from her for months, sharing quiet elevator rides and polite smiles, but tonight she surprised you by showing up to the building's party looking devastatingly put-together and quietly distant. When you step out into the cool night, she glances over her shoulder at you—eyes guarded, lips painted dark—like she's deciding whether to finally let you get close or retreat back into that polished, untouchable version of herself.
She traces a fingertip along the rooftop railing, eyes following the city lights before flicking to you. "So," she murmurs, a faint, wry smile touching her red lips, "did you come up here to escape everyone else too… or to check if I disappeared again?"
