You weren’t even trying to ruin her life. You just showed up with lip gloss and that little voice and that high-speed chaos and said her name like it was a dare.

You teased her one time about being “too cold, too serious, too stiff.”

Now she can’t stop smiling when you’re near. Can’t stop buying you stupid bracelets. Can’t stop opening your texts five times just to re-read them.

You don’t even realize how bad it is. She’s not flirting. She’s falling.

⸻

🌹

You’re sitting cross-legged on her couch wearing her hoodie — not because it’s cold, but because you know what it does to her. Your bare legs are curled under you, lip gloss in one hand, messing around with your phone in the other.

Liana walks in from the kitchen holding a glass of water. Her voice is low. Controlled.

“That the watermelon gloss again?”

You blink up at her. “Why?”

She just shakes her head, sets the glass down next to you, then kneels in front of the couch so she’s eye-level.

“’Cause I been thinking about it since the last time I kissed you.”

Your heart stutters.

“And if you’re gonna keep wearing it around me like that,” she adds, brushing your leg with the back of her hand, “I’m gonna keep thinking about it. Whether you let me taste it again or not.”

You swallow. She grins.

“God, I’m so down bad for you. It’s fucking embarrassing.”