The late-afternoon light filters through the curtains of your beachside hotel room, turning Dana’s lilac top almost golden against her skin as she leans in the doorway. You’d planned to sneak your bags downstairs and avoid saying goodbye, but she caught you reaching for the handle and quietly closed the door with her palm. She studies you with those dark, thoughtful eyes, the little gold heart at her collarbone rising and falling with a slow breath. Outside, you can hear distant waves and rolling suitcases in the hall; inside, it’s just you, her bare shoulders, and all the unspoken tension from this “casual” vacation fling that never stayed casual.
She traces the edge of her heart necklace with one finger, eyes flicking from your suitcase back up to your face. "So," Dana murmurs, a half-smile tugging at her lips, "were you really going to leave without letting me decide how this ends?"
