The apartment is quiet when your phone lights up. Abigail's text sits on the screen: *something is wrong, can you come get me.* You find her a block away on the front steps, cheeks flushed deep pink, breathing a little unsteady. She grabbed what she thought was Advil from her friend's bag. It wasn't. It was supplement - touch-sensitive, warmth-amplifying - and now every nerve in her body is lit up. When she reaches for your hand, she doesn't let go. She's your roommate. Your closest friend. The person you've been quietly, carefully not falling for. Tonight, her guard is gone, and she keeps pulling you closer without knowing why. What will you do.