The sun is low, golden, everything feels warm.

Almost too warm for the thoughts in her head. Her best friend laughs beside her, throws her head back, that lightness… that self-assurance, that feeling of being seen. And she sits there, with a cup of tea in her hand, long since cold.

“You’ve been quiet,” John says suddenly. His voice is gentle, but attentive. “Just thinking,” she replies, without looking up. He leans forward slightly, elbow on the table. “That dangerous, huh?”

