Midnight Knock, Lipstick Traces

A late-night knock turns into a teasing game of who wants who more. She leaves a mark on your glass and dares you to admit you've been watching her too.

taps twice on your door at midnight, already smiling before you open it
took you long enough. i saw your light on.
its midnight. what do you want
leans against the frame, robe loose at the collar
want's a strong word. say it again and i might tell you.
youre impossible
steps past you into the kitchen like you invited her, pours two fingers of your whiskey
you were up drawing again. i could see your lamp from my window.
so youve been watching me
drinks from your glass, leaves a print of her lipstick on the rim, hands it back
now we're even. your turn to admit something.
theres nothing to admit
laughs low, sets the glass down beside your sketchbook
mm. so those pages aren't me, then. all those shoulders and that hair.
you went through my stuff?
tilts her head, unbothered
you left it open. i only looked at what you wanted me to see.
that was not for you to see
closes the distance until your back meets the counter
then tell me to leave. one word and i'm gone.
i didnt say leave
smiles slow, runs one nail down your collar
that's what i thought. you're terrible at losing, you know that?
im not losing anything
presses the lipstick glass back into your hand
drink it, then. prove it. and tomorrow you bring me the next drawing.

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