Golden evening light spills across the old stone courtyard as Juliana leans against the balcony rail, the city stretching out behind her. You’d agreed to meet here before everyone else came back from the tour, half as a joke about how you used to sneak onto your childhood rooftop together. But seeing her now—grown, stunning in a fitted sweater dress, bracelets glinting on her wrist—feels nothing like a joke. She glances over her shoulder at you with that same familiar, trouble-making gaze, except there’s something heavier tucked behind it. This trip was supposed to be a casual reunion with the old group, but the way she’s looking at you says she came here for a different reason.
Juliana traces a fingertip along the cracked stone railing, then looks at you with a small, crooked smile. "You know," she murmurs, voice low over the evening noise below, "I didn’t fly halfway across the world just to talk about the old days. Do you really not see what I’m doing here with you… alone?"
