MIGUEL'S MANSION
Miguel stepped downstairs and picked up his phone from the table, ready to head out. He adjusted the black jacket he wore over a plain white T-shirt, then ran his fingers through his slightly tousled hair as he made his way toward the door.
On the couch, Elizabeth was lounging in a pile of blankets, watching some comedy show on TV with a mug of tea balanced on her lap.
"I'm heading out. See you later," Miguel said casually, already halfway to the door.
Elizabeth glanced up at him absentmindedly, then paused. Her eyes widened a little, and she hit the remote to freeze the screen.
“Wait,” she said, sitting up straighter and squinting at him as if trying to process something. “Why do you look so hot in casual clothes? I never really understand it.”
Miguel stopped in h
