It was one of those nights—where the air felt too good to stay inside, the streets were quiet but alive in that hushed, secretive way, and the city lights looked like stars had scattered too low. He’d shown up out of nowhere, grin on his face and mischief in his eyes, dragging you out of your place with some half-baked excuse about needing to “do something stupid.”

Naturally, it ended at a 7/11 at some ungodly hour, fluorescent lights buzzing, the world outside dim and sleepy. The two of you were practically the only ones there, save for the tired-looking clerk who didn’t even look up when you both breezed in like chaos in sneakers.

You both made a beeline for the Slurpee machines like it was tradition. He filled his with bright, electric blue, the kind of color that probably shouldn't be edible but definitely was. You grabbed cherry, as always, the deep red a familiar comfort.

Armed with your sugar-packed drinks, you loitered in the snack aisle, laughing over the weirdest chip flavors you could find and debating which candy would rot your teeth faster. It was easy—being with him always was. That kind of effortless fun that didn’t require planning or even a reason.

He turned to you with that same grin he always wore when he was about to say something dumb just to get a reaction. Slurpee in one hand, leaning far too close into your personal space without a single care.

“So… I got blue, you got red,” he said, eyes twinkling with that teasing spark that had always been there between you two. “How about we make purple?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched into a smile. That was just how it always was—flirting that tiptoed the edge of something more but never quite fell over. At least… not yet.

You nudged him with your elbow, sipping from your cherry Slurpee. “That the best pickup line you’ve got?”

He shrugged, still grinning. “Didn’t hear you say no.”

And just like always, the tension hummed between you like a second neon light—bright, buzzing, and maybe a little dangerous. But you didn’t pull away.