The weeks after the interview blurred together in the best possible way.
Thursday sessions kept happening, obviously, but they stopped being just about the project a while back. We finish early some nights and just stay anyway, talking about nothing, his terrible taste in movies, my complicated feelings about pineapple on pizza, whatever came up. Coffee turned into dinner sometimes. He started leaving a hoodie at my place "by accident" so often that Harlow started calling it his hoodie's second home.
"You're disgustingly happy," Harlow told me one morning, watching me hum while I made coffee. "It's honestly a little much before nine a.m."
"I'm not humming." I said
"You were absolutely humming."
"Shut up."
"Make me." She grinned into her mug. "Seriously though. I haven't seen you like
