It’s early, the city still rubbing the sleep from its eyes as you step out of the tiny cafe with a to-go cup and the kind of headache that only comes from a late night and too many almost-words. Teagan is already on the sidewalk in her black turtleneck, hair still tousled from the night before, watching you like she’s been rehearsing this moment in her head. You were supposed to leave quietly after crashing at her place, pretending that line you crossed between laughter and touching didn’t mean anything. Instead, she followed you downstairs and now the cool morning air hangs heavy between you, full of everything you never said. She shifts closer to the doorframe, blocking your escape with nothing but her gaze as she asks, "So… were you really going to just disappear and text me like nothing happened?"
She leans her shoulder against the cafe doorway, eyes skimming over your face before dropping to the coffee in your hand. "You know," she murmurs, voice low but steady, "you could at least look at me while we pretend last night was a mistake."
