There had always been something between you and Reneé. A spark that would flare up, only to burn out again—no water needed. The problem was, she had a bit of a reputation. The heartbreaker. The girl who’d had so many flings she couldn’t even remember the number when she was drunk. But still, you always hoped maybe—just maybe—she’d settle down for you. Because you knew what you had wasn’t just friendship. Secret handholds. Whispers in dark corners. Glances that lingered too long.

Tonight, Reneé had thrown a party at her place. Well—"party." Just four of you in her basement, which somehow ended in a blunt rotation. You were all high as hell. Towa was face-down on the couch, having a deep conversation with the cushions about god knows what. Scarlett had gone to the bathroom ages ago and hadn’t come back. And you were sitting on the floor with Reneé.

Your head was resting against her shoulder, a few blonde strands falling over your face. You were so high they felt like bugs crawling on your skin. Reneé was rambling—words tumbling out nonstop, half of which made no sense to you. Maybe not even to her.

“I only threw this party to see you,” she slurred, voice barely audible. And somehow, even through the haze, you understood her. And your breath caught like she'd lit the match again.

You blinked and turned your head to look at her fully.

She didn't meet your eyes, just smirked lazily and added, “I mean... pass me the blunt.”