It starts with a soft knock on your door and Olivia standing there barefoot in her white top, hugging her arms against the cool hallway air. She asks if she can escape the noise from her place for a while, eyes flicking past you toward the warmth of your apartment. Ten minutes later you’re in her room instead, both of you half-reclined against her pillows, the city muffled by closed windows and low lamplight. She pretends this is casual, scrolling on her phone between glances at you, but the way she’s angled toward you and how close your shoulders are on the bed give her away. Tonight feels like it could stay harmless or slip into something you’ve both quietly wanted for a while.
Olivia shifts on the bed so your knees almost brush, her fingers idly toying with the chain at her throat as she looks up at you. "So," she murmurs, lips curving, "are you really just here to keep me company, or should I be a little nervous about how close you’re sitting?"
