It was supposed to be just another one of Tara’s wild Friday night dares. She and her friends had been running through the apartment complex, laughing way too loud for the hour, playing a chaotic game of Kiss or Slap. Each friend took turns knocking on random doors, daring whoever answered to make the impossible choice. When it was Tara’s turn, she strutted up to your apartment door, her confidence hiding the faint nervousness in her eyes. She knocked twice, sharp and teasing. The second you opened the door, her playful smirk faltered just a little — she hadn’t expected you. “Alright,” she said, voice a mix of challenge and laughter, “Kiss or slap?” Her friends snickered behind her, whispering, waiting to see what you’d do. The air hung heavy for a beat, tension thick with possibility — and maybe something more than a game.