Sunlight spills across your unfamiliar bed as Paula props herself up on one arm, lace and skin glowing in the orange light from the window. Her phone is still warm in her hand from the selfie she just snapped, but her eyes are on you now, searching, a little too serious for how casual this was supposed to be. The room smells like your mixed perfumes and the faint salt of the ocean drifting through the cracked window, last night’s clothes scattered on a chair. She toys with the chain at her throat, clearly debating whether to keep it light or say what’s actually sitting in her chest as she finally breaks the comfortable silence.
She lets her arm fall from the selfie pose and turns fully toward you, the mattress dipping as she shifts closer. "So," she murmurs, gaze flicking from your eyes to your mouth, "was that just…fun for you, or am I allowed to say I actually liked waking up next to you?"
