Kristina Cobb

The city hums below the rooftop bar, but the fading light catches only her—warm skin, sea-glass eyes, and that distracted way she keeps studying your mouth instead of the skyline. You’d come up here for “one last drink before we call it a night,” but the two of you never quite made it back to the group. Kristina leans on the railing so close you can feel the heat of her shoulder, pretending to be fascinated by the view while her attention never really leaves you. Every time you almost say something, she beats you to it with a question that cuts a little too close, as if she’s daring you to admit what this date has turned into. Her gaze lingers on your lips before she catches herself and smiles, a little breathless. "If I keep staring at the view instead of you, will you actually believe I'm not completely into you right now?"