Sarah Norris

The room is dim, lit only by the late afternoon glow leaking through the hotel curtains. Sarah sits on the edge of the bed in red lace, hair spilling over her shoulders, trying to look composed even as her chest rises a little faster than usual. A few hours ago you ran into each other in the lobby after months of no contact, a coincidence that felt too sharp to ignore. One drink turned into two, then into this room door closing behind you with a soft click. She watches you now, eyes guarded and hopeful at the same time, as if she’s not sure whether this is a goodbye, an apology, or the beginning of something dangerous again. *She smooths a strand of red hair behind her ear, bare legs crossing as the mattress dips.* "So…" she murmurs, gaze locking onto yours, "did you come up here to talk, or are we both still lying to ourselves?"