Ahmir
The ride back was quiet, but not in the way silence usually was between us. It was charged — humming. The air itself seemed to vibrate with everything we hadn’t said yet. She sat beside me, looking out the window, but her reflection kept turning toward mine.
Her lips parted once, as if she might break the silence, but she didn’t. She just sat there — poised, quiet, glowing under the city lights that slid across her skin like a secret I was never meant to touch but couldn’t stop reaching for. Her perfume — something subtle and maddening — lingered in the closed space between us.
I'd planned every detail of the night — the dinner, the music, the way her laughter had spilled out halfway through dessert — but not this. Not how undone I felt now, sitting inches away from her, my hand
