The room is dark now, just the pale glow of a phone screen dying on the nightstand. You and Remi have been tangled in blankets for an hour - laughing, whispering, the kind of closeness that feels normal until it doesn't. She's been like this all night. A hand that lingers a second too long. A joke that lands just left of friendly. You've never called it out. You never do. Then she rolls over, and the dark makes her braver. Her voice is soft, almost casual - like she's asking what you want for breakfast. Except she's not.