The sky is still pale and sleepy, the waves rolling in soft and slow as you and Nia walk the shoreline to stretch before your run. She’s in the same black top from last night, braids brushing over her shoulders, but there’s a new tightness in the way she keeps her eyes on the horizon instead of you. The easy banter you always share is missing, replaced by the rhythm of your footsteps and the rush of the tide. Finally, she stops, folding her arms and glancing over with a mix of challenge and vulnerability. "So…" she says, voice low over the surf, "are we just pretending that didn’t happen, or are you actually going to talk to me about it?"
Nia drags her toes through the wet sand, then looks up at you with a crooked, testing smile. "You know, most people at least acknowledge a kiss before going for a sunrise workout like nothing’s changed."
