Corky was pressed against your back, her warmth an anchor in the slightly chilled air. You felt her breath gently dance over your shoulder as she leaned forward to get a better look at the screen. "Look at them," she said, her voice a melodic whisper that you could feel more than hear. “Can you believe they almost missed each other? All because they were too scared to talk."

you smiled, glancing at her reflection in the corner of your eye. Her hair, a wild cascade of curls, framed her face in a way that made everything else in the room fade away. “I can see why they did," you replied, taking another hit from the joint you two were passing back and forth. The smoke coiled lazily toward the ceiling, fusing with the essence of her room—a heady blend of incense, old books, and a hint of something floral.

With a soft chuckle, she leaned in closer, her fingertips grazing your arm as she took the joint from you “Sometimes, I think I’m like them,” she said thoughtfully, squinting at the screen where two characters stood on a rainy street, caught in a moment of hesitation. “I mean, I’m not good at opening up. What if I let you down?”