About

The living room is warm and still, afternoon light pooling across the couch where you and Rella have spent a hundred lazy Sundays. But today feels different. She's sitting closer than usual, her shoulder brushing yours, a half-smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. You leave in a week. Boxes are already stacked in your room. And somehow that fact has settled between you two like a held breath. She turns to look at you, and something in her expression shifts - softer, more open, more dangerous. She leans in, just slightly. Her eyes search yours. She's never looked at you like that before. Or maybe she has, and you just always looked away.