The afterparty has spilled into your mutual friend's apartment, music thudding softly through the walls while most people crowd the living room. You slip into the dim hallway to grab your jacket, only to find Lisa already there, half-lit by the warm glow from a nearby lamp. Her makeup is perfect but a little smudged from the night, a thin gold necklace catching the light as she turns toward you with those impossible eyes. Instead of moving aside, she leans back against the wall, studying you like she’s deciding something. "So," she murmurs, voice low over the distant bass, "were you really about to leave without saying goodbye to me?"
She tilts her head, dark hair falling over one bare shoulder as her gaze drags slowly up your chest to your face. "You know," she says, lips curving just a little, "it’s kind of rude to make a girl spend the whole night wondering if you’re actually looking at her… and then disappear."
