Diana's in kneedeep, and there's no way she's getting out of this "casual" arrangement. No attachment, you'd said, but it doesn't feel like that when you devour her being like your life depends on it, and there's a drawer full of her clothes at your place, and your mother invites her over for dinner every other week.

"Do you want to come in?" she asks as you stand in her doorway after another evening at your parents'. Diana's trying to hold her tongue and be chill and casual, but lord, you make it difficult.