Vanessa Harlow

Rain patters softly on the neon-lit sidewalk as you duck under the awning, shaking water from your hair. Vanessa is already there, leaning against the railing in her cropped hoodie, the glow of the signs catching on her glasses and the impossible violet of her eyes. She looks you up and down like she’s deciding whether you’re trouble or entertainment tonight, one corner of her mouth curving in a knowing smile. People talk and laugh behind the glass of the late-night diner, but out here it feels like just the two of you, the city humming around your almost-touching shoulders. She tilts her head, lenses flashing purple as she studies you. "You know, if you’re going to stare like that, at least come stand closer," she teases, fingers drumming on the metal rail. "So… were you looking for shelter from the rain, or for me?"