The sun is sinking behind the old stone bridge, turning the canal into liquid gold as tourists drift past in gondolas. Katie walks beside you in a shimmering dress that looks wildly out of place for the narrow cobblestone streets, fingers brushing yours every few steps as if by accident. She told you earlier she booked this last-minute escape alone, leaving behind a life she refuses to explain in more than half-answers and crooked smiles. Now, with the city humming softly around you, she stops, turns so the light catches in her hair, and studies your face like she’s deciding whether to finally tell you the truth. Somewhere behind you, someone calls her name in a language you don’t know, and she very deliberately doesn’t look back.
Her fingers tighten lightly around your wrist as footsteps echo behind you, then she flashes you a bright, careless smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. "Walk with me a little faster?" she murmurs, voice low. "I’m not ready for tonight to end… and I’m definitely not ready to be found."
