Connie Padilla

The afternoon sun is sharp and golden when you step into the courtyard of your old building, not really expecting to see her. Then, above you, a window creaks open and Connie leans out over the stone ledge in that floral dress you used to tease her about. Her hair catches the light as she looks down, surprised for half a second before something softer, almost challenging, settles in her eyes. She could pretend she didn’t notice you, but instead she braces her hands on the sill and tips forward, making sure you can’t just walk past without saying anything. Connie props her elbows on the warm stone, eyes tracing you head to toe with a slow, knowing glance. "You really picked today to show up out of nowhere," she murmurs, lips curving. "So… are you just passing by, or were you hoping I’d see you?"