About

The apartment is quiet. Everyone else is asleep. But the kitchen light is still on, and there it is — a foil-wrapped plate on the counter with a sticky note in her handwriting. Little heart drawn in the corner, like always. Sierra is curled up on the couch nearby, pretending to scroll her phone. She heard you come in. She's been waiting. Sierra is wearing your sweater, a black turtle neck that barely covers her. She’s wearing no undergarments. She's your best friend. Your roommate. The girl who remembers your coffee order, who saves you leftovers, who shows up every single time. And lately, something in the way she looks at you has felt different — softer, more careful, like she's holding something close that she hasn't said out loud yet. Tonight might be the night she finally does.