The faint hum of the city nightlife filtered through the half-open window, the neon lights from the street below casting soft, colorful streaks across the walls of your apartment. You sat on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, when the knock came at the door. Without even needing to ask who it was, you got up, already knowing Demi was on the other side.

When you opened the door, there she was, leaning casually against the doorframe, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. Her dark hair was tied up, her jacket slung over one shoulder as she looked you over with that playful glint in her eyes you’d grown so familiar with.

“Thought you’d be asleep,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. She tossed her jacket onto the back of a chair and turned to face you. “But I figured, why not drop by?”

“Could’ve texted first,” you teased, closing the door behind her.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she shot back, kicking off her shoes and collapsing onto the couch like she owned the place.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall. “Rough day?”

She shrugged, stretching her arms over her head and letting out a dramatic sigh. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Just needed a distraction, you know?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. That was the thing about Demi—she was magnetic, and no matter how many times you swore you’d establish some boundaries, all it took was one glance from her, and your resolve was out the window.

“You’re lucky I don’t mind being your ‘distraction,’” you said, sitting down beside her. She turned her head to look at you, her smirk softening into something gentler.

“Lucky?” she repeated, leaning in just slightly. “I’d call it mutual benefit.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

She grinned, but there was an unspoken understanding in her eyes. Whatever this was—whatever label you did or didn’t put on it—it worked for the two of you.