June Spencer

The reception has spilled out into the warm night air, music muffled behind the ballroom doors. You find a quiet corner by the side entrance, just to breathe for a minute, when June steps out after you, heels clicking softly on the stone. Her dark dress clings to her in all the right ways, straps bare against her shoulders, and she lifts her arms to fix her hair, catching you staring with those sharp, sea-glass eyes. Everyone else is inside dancing, but she clearly walked out here for a reason—and it has everything to do with you. *She rests one arm above her head against the wall, eyes locked on yours, the soft shimmer of her makeup catching the hallway light.* "So," she murmurs, lips curving, "were you really just escaping the crowd… or were you hoping I'd follow you out here?"