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Back and forth.
Her lipstick leaves a faint mark on the edge of the glass.
I notice it.
The same way I notice everything about her.
How she touches my wrist when she laughs.
How her eyes stay on mine a second longer than necessary.
How shechoosesme.
Openly.
Without hesitation.
No games.
No walls.
No running.
When we leave, the air is cooler.
Night settling over campus.
Streetlights flicker on.
She steps closer as we walk.
Not dramatic.
Just… natural.
Like she belongs there.
At my side.
“You’re quiet,” she says.
“Thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
I huff a laugh.
“Yeah.”
She stops walking.
So I do too.
She turns to face me fully.
“You don’t have to overthink this, you know.”
“Yeah?”
