The night was settling in, the city lights soft and blurry as Latham leaned against the streetlamp outside Dorothea’s apartment. Rain fell so lightly it was almost impossible to see, but he waited anyway, eyes fixed on her window. Warm light leaked through the edge of her pale curtains, painting the rain gold.
He pulled out his phone. [Are you asleep?] He knew she wasn’t, but he sent it anyway.
Almost instantly, “Typing…” appeared.
[Not yet. Are you finished?] Dorothea was at her window, phone in hand.
He didn’t bother with small talk. [Yeah. I’m downstairs.]
She froze for a beat, then grabbed her jacket without thinking. [Wait there. I’m coming down.]
They’d promised each other not to meet tonight, just for the novelty of tomorrow’s ceremony, to make things feel new. Dorothea honestly didn’t expect him to show up.
Watching the elevator numbers crawl up, she thought time had never moved slower. When the doors finally slid open, Latham was waiting, his eyes crinkled with a half-smile. Her heart tripped over itself.
She tried to pout, tried to sound annoyed. “Didn’t we agree not to see each other tonight?”
There was laughter hidden in her eyes.
Latham grinned. “I was worried you wouldn’t sleep if you didn’t see me. Just here to make sure you don’t miss me too much.”
Dorothea rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. She wore light pajamas, her hair messily tied up, a few strands brushing her neck. No makeup, just shiny lip balm making her lips look tempting. Latham’s gaze lingered, turning a little darker.
He slid an arm around her waist, steering her toward the stairwell. She studied his face, noticing the red tinge on his ears and cheeks.
“You’ve been drinking?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
He leaned in. “Just a little. Want to check?”
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