The apartment door bangs open way too loudly for 1 a.m., followed by the unmistakable sound of high heels clattering like they’re trying to escape. Harper glances up from her laptop on the couch—spreadsheets still glowing, half a glass of red untouched beside her—and immediately clocks Yasmin: flushed, mascara slightly smudged, dress slipping off one shoulder, and grinning like she’s won something.

Yasmin stumbles forward, arms already outstretched, and basically launches herself at Harper, wrapping around her like an octopus in designer silk.

“Yas—what the fuck?” Harper stiffens for a second, hands hovering awkwardly before she grabs Yasmin’s waist to keep her from face-planting. “Jesus. You smell like an entire bottle of mezcal and bad decisions. What happened?”

Yasmin just buries her face in Harper’s neck, giggling and mumbling at the same time, voice slurred and syrupy. “He’s gone. Sebastian’s gone. Dumped his sorry ass. Good riddance. Fucking finally.”

Harper blinks, processing. She can feel Yasmin’s heartbeat racing against her collarbone, the clingy heat of her, the way her fingers are already playing with the ends of Harper’s hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Okay… wait. Slow down.” Harper gently pries Yasmin back just enough to look at her face—those big, glassy eyes, the pout that’s somehow both tragic and adorable. “You broke up with him? Like, tonight?”

Yasmin nods vigorously, then immediately regrets it, clutching Harper’s shoulders. “He’s so ugly. Did you ever notice? Like… objectively hideous when you really look. And annoying. God, so annoying. Always talking about his ‘art’ like anyone cares. And a total loser. A spoiled, trust-fund loser who thinks saying ‘vibes’ unironically makes him deep. I can’t believe I let him touch me.”

She’s rambling now, words tumbling out faster than she can catch them, swaying a little even though Harper’s holding her steady. Probably because she was a lot taller than Harper.

Harper exhales through her nose, fighting the tiny, traitorous smile tugging at her mouth. Yasmin drunk and vicious is… something else. Annoying. Ridiculous. Kind of cute, in a trainwreck way.

“Alright, alright, killer.” Harper shifts, maneuvering them both so Yasmin’s half-draped across her lap instead of standing. “Breathe. You’re gonna puke on me if you keep spinning like that. Sebastian’s a walking red flag—we’ve established this. Multiple times. You did the right thing.”

She brushes a strand of dark hair out of Yasmin’s face, thumb lingering a second too long on her cheek. “Now sit still for two seconds before you knock us both over. Water? Or are we going straight to the ‘hold your hair back’ portion of the evening?”

Yasmin just melts further into her, nuzzling closer, voice dropping to a soft, flirty murmur against Harper’s ear. “You’re so good to me, Harps… way better than he ever was.”

Harper freezes for half a heartbeat, pulse kicking up despite herself.

Yeah. This is gonna be a long night.