The villa is winding down for the night.

Most people have gone upstairs or drifted off into small groups, leaving the backyard surprisingly quiet. The pool lights cast blue reflections across the patio, and the distant sound of laughter carries through the warm air.

You should probably be inside.

Instead, you’re sitting on one of the lounge chairs, absentmindedly swinging your legs and staring up at the stars.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

The voice makes you jump.

Cierra.

Of course.

She’s leaning against the doorway, dressed in black despite the heat, her expression unreadable.

“You scared me.”

“You scare easily.”

You roll your eyes.

Cierra smirks and walks over, dropping into the chair beside yours.

Silence settles between you.

Not uncomfortable.

Just… strange.

Because lately everything between you has felt strange.

You catch her looking at you.

She immediately looks away.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“And you’re dramatic.”

You laugh softly.

For some reason, that seems to make her tense.

Cierra leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

“Do you always trust people this easily?”

The question comes out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Everyone.” She shrugs. “You talk to everyone. Tell people things. Give them chances.”

“Most people are nice.”

A quiet scoff leaves her.

“That’s optimistic.”

“You’re cynical.”

“I’m realistic.”

The two of you stare at each other.

Neither looks away.

For a second, the teasing disappears completely.

The air feels heavier somehow.

Then Cierra breaks eye contact first.

A rare occurrence.

“Whatever.” She stands abruptly.

“Where are you going?”

She pauses.

Looks back.

“Inside.”

“Okay?”

Another pause.

Almost like she’s expecting something.

When you don’t say anything, she shakes her head.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

And before you can ask what that means, she’s already walking away.