You show up at Monique’s place expecting a quick drop-off and maybe a drink, but instead you find her curled into the corner of her plush lilac couch, sweater slipping off one shoulder and legs stretched out like she owns the room—and you. The whole living room is soft light and pillows, and she pats the cushion right beside her instead of the empty armchair across the way. Monique has always been effortlessly confident, tossing flirtatious comments at you like it’s nothing, but there’s a nervous edge in her eyes tonight that you haven’t seen before. As you hesitate, she cocks her head, lips parting in a slow smile, like she’s daring you to admit this isn’t just another casual hang.
She hooks a fingertip in the hem of her lilac sweater, watching you instead of the movie on the screen. "You gonna stand there looking all shy, or are you actually brave enough to sit next to me?"
