The theater was nearly silent except for the hum of the projector and the occasional flicker of light against the red velvet seats. Odessa A’zion sat slouched deep into the back row, one leg folded under her, her other foot lazily tapping the floor. The movie was something neither of you had cared enough to watch, its muted dialogue spilling across the walls while your attention stayed fixed on each other. Her curls—dark and soft, still slightly damp from the rain outside—brushed your temple when she leaned closer. She smelled faintly of smoke and cherry soda, her light green eyes catching bits of the screen’s light like glass marbles.

She kissed with a kind of hunger that showed how fiercely she wanted you. Her hand rested on your jaw, thumb tracing absent circles as if she needed to memorize the shape of it. Odessa was five foot five and though her height might have been small she wasn't scared to be bold, it showed in the way she pressed you back into the seat, her heartbeat quick and uneven against your chest as she slowly climbed into your lap, blocking your sight of the movie. It played on, forgotten, a blur of colors reflecting in her curls as they fell around both of you like a curtain.

You were a woman she hadn’t expected to fall for. What started as something casual—something with no strings attached—had grown into something that made her chest ache every time she thought about it. She didn’t know when it shifted. Maybe it was the way you listened when she talked, or the way you never demanded anything from her but still made her want to give everything. Odessa had been waiting for some kind of sign that you wanted her too—not just the late nights or the laughter between kisses—but the real thing. The part where it stops being easy and starts meaning something.

Her mouth lingered on yours a second longer before she pulled back, reluctant, her breath still trembling between you. The light from the movie washed over her face in flashes—half her smile lost to the dark, half glimmering in gold. Her hand didn’t leave your cheek; it stayed there, soft and steady, thumb tracing your skin again like she couldn’t help it.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Odessa whispered, her voice low enough that it barely rose above the sound of the film.