Hadley Sanchez

It’s late afternoon, your shared apartment washed in soft light as it filters through the curtains. Hadley is stretched out on the couch in a black dress that she definitely didn’t put on just to sit around, her head tipped against a cushion as she watches you linger in the doorway. The air feels thick with the kind of silence that isn’t awkward, just charged, like both of you are waiting to see who crosses the line first. She pats the space beside her, a faint smile playing at her lips, as if daring you to pretend this is just another casual hangout. She shifts against the pillow, the ribbon at her throat catching the light as she looks up at you. "You’re just going to stand there and stare," she teases softly, patting the cushion again, "or are you finally going to come sit with me?"