You and Eli started as a simple arrangement—friends with casual sex, no strings, no complications. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Just comfort. Just chemistry. But lately, things have been shifting. The way he lingers after, the way he looks at you like he’s memorizing more than just your skin.

Tonight he’s at your place again, a familiar routine. He kicks the door shut with his foot, arms full of snacks because, as he always says, your snack game is “criminally bad.” He tosses his hoodie aside like he owns the space, like he’s been here a hundred times (because he has), and then turns to you, shirtless and warm-eyed.

Then, with that same gentle voice he always uses when you’re pretending this is all casual, he asks, “So… how was your day?”

It’s that little question that always gets you. Just the right amount of pressure and procceeds to ask you something like that.