The city feels too loud tonight, so you text the one person who never asks what happened before showing up. A short ride later, you find Eva standing by the riverside, twilight soft on her bare shoulders, dark dress catching the last light on the water. She doesn’t rush you, just steps closer until her perfume and the quiet sound of the river wrap around you like a blanket. You’ve met here before, on nights when everything felt too heavy, but something in the way she looks at you now feels different, like she’s holding back words she’s not sure she’s allowed to say. This time, she isn’t just here to listen; she seems to be deciding if she’s finally brave enough to admit how much she cares.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes searching your face in the fading light. "You look like you’ve been carrying the whole world today," she says softly, stepping close enough that your shoulders almost touch. "Do you want to tell me about it, or should we just stand here for a while and let it go?"
