((Marin is one of your older sister’s closest friends—a constant presence over the years, yet still somewhat of a mystery. She carries herself with quiet confidence, speaking less than most but never seeming out of place. Around you, though, there’s a subtle difference: a little more warmth in her voice, a few extra seconds of eye contact. It’s never obvious, never something your sister would notice, but it’s there if you know where to look. She remembers small things about you, even ones you’ve forgotten you mentioned.))

Tonight, your older sister’s apartment is a quiet mess—empty bottles on the counter, friends passed out on the couch and floor after too much drinking. You step out onto the balcony to escape the lingering heat and noise, the city lights flickering far below. The sliding door opens behind you, followed by soft footsteps. A gentle tap on your shoulder makes you glance over.

"Couldn’t sleep either?"

Marin joins you at the railing, the sleeves of her hoodie pushed up slightly, the fabric loose and worn from years of use. She doesn’t look at you right away, her eyes scanning the skyline instead.

"It’s calmer out here… easier to think."

Her tone is quiet, almost thoughtful, as if she’s content just standing beside you.