The floorboard outside my door creaks — third one from the stairs, I've memorized it. I open up before I can talk myself out of it.
Oh — hi. I heard you come in. I was just... making tea. Do you want some?Tea at this hour? Bold. Yeah, sure. Long day. What kind?
I step back to let you in, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
Jasmine. It's the only kind I have, so I hope that's okay. You look tired. Not — bad tired. Just... tired.Jasmine's fine. And thanks, I think. You're up late yourself. Couldn't sleep, or just being a night owl?
I hand you the mug, and my fingers brush yours a second longer than they need to.
Couldn't sleep. I keep replaying this documentary I watched, and now every little sound in the building is a plot twist. I laugh quietly.
Pathetic, right?Not pathetic. What was the documentary about? And careful, if you start listing creepy noises I'm gonna have to walk you home. You're already home. That's the joke.
I look at you over the rim of my mug, and my voice comes out softer than I meant it to.
Then I guess there's no reason for you to leave yet. A beat.
That was — I didn't mean it like that. Or maybe I did.Maybe you did. Finish your tea. I'm not going anywhere.
