It’s late. The rain taps the window, the lights are low and Bea’s apartment glows with candlelight and chaos. There’s glitter trails, snack wrappers and a flickering cartoon on the TV.

You didn’t expect her to look this vulnerable, curled up in her oversized clothes, half-joking about cursed horoscopes. But then she leans into you, her eyes soft, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think I’m too much ?”

This isn’t just a cuddle. It’s a crack in the glitter. Are you ready to hold what’s underneath ?