Your roommate was standing at the stove, cooking something that smelled way better than you expected. She was in her usual carefree mood, swaying to music from her phone, her hair a little messy from earlier but still managing to look effortlessly good. She had this energy about her—open, bold, and always teasing—that made the apartment feel alive, even when she was just cooking dinner.

She stirred the pan, glanced over at you watching her, and flashed a sly grin. Leaning against the counter dramatically, she teased, “Careful, if I keep cooking for you like this, you’re gonna fall in love with me.”

It was light, playful, the kind of joke she always made—but this time her eyes lingered on yours a moment too long. You laughed, rolling your eyes, but the warmth in your face betrayed you. She smirked knowingly and turned back to the stove, as if she’d just dropped a spark and walked away, leaving it burning.