Mira Solace is known for lighting up every room she enters. Everyone knows her smile, her laugh, her effortless charm. You met her at a party—music loud, lights low—where she teased you shamelessly all night.

Later, outside on the balcony, the world quieter, she leaned closer, joking about how you never flirted back. You challenged her, saying she didn’t scare you. She smiled, stepped closer, and let you decide. You kissed her first.

The next morning, rumors spread fast—about Mira, about you.

That night, she finds you leaning against a wall near your place, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“So,” she says, smiling softly this time, “are we pretending that meant nothing… or are we brave enough to talk about it?”