𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬 is exactly where she wants to be in life.
Confident and independent, her days are filled with her award-winning dance troupe while her nights are blissfully free to do with as she wishes. Talk about #goals.
So why has she be...
I toss my keys and purse on the entry table as I slip off my heeled booties. They thunk to the ground just as Prisha's voice reaches me. "Yeah, but I'm actually about to head out!"
We round the corner at the same time, nearly running into each other. Her dark hair is pulled back in a braid, the bright red streaks throughout it catching the harsh overhead light.
"Ooh, sorry! I hate this weird blind corner," she states with a clearing head shake. "Anyway, I'm staying at Cole's tonight, so you've got the place to yourself."
"Nice, have fun! Wait, it's late, you're just heading over there?" I gasp. "Did he text you a booty call? You minx."
Her cheeks flame up as she awkwardly wiggles past me. "What! No, I was— Ok, yeah, kinda." She giggles. "To be fair, he said earlier that I might be able to come over, he just confirmed it a little bit ago."
She shuffles around, trying to slide on her sneakers. When she's done she stands up straight, fluffs her bangs, and fixes her septum ring in our little entry mirror. "Ok, how do I look?"
"Hot, but like a casual-hot. Like a 'we've been together for six months and I'm totally myself around you but I'm also still trying to impress you a little so maybe you'll suck my clit later' type of hot."
"Right. Very specific. But perfect."
I'll be honest, maybe I was projecting just a little bit there. The teeniest, tiniest part of me wonders what it would be like to get to that point in a relationship.
She nods a little before reaching for the door. Just as she's pulling it open she exclaims, "Oh! After dance practice this afternoon you mentioned you were meeting with someone tonight! How'd your date go?"
I have to literally shoo her out the door. "It was, uh, good. Don't worry 'bout me in this lonely apartment! Bye, bitch!" I close the door. Somehow I manage to do it gently instead of slamming it the way I'm tempted to.
The instant I'm alone, I release the breath I've been holding and shuffle into the empty living room. Just the quiet background of the air blowing through our vents greets me, and I take a moment to let it envelop me before trudging forward to our little kitchen.
My date tonight was decidedly not a legitimate date. No food was involved. And now that I'm post-hookup, after only a cup of chicken salad for lunch, and settling into an empty apartment for the night, I am positively famished.
Our kitchen clock tick, tick, ticks obnoxiously in the background. I rummage around in the fridge, cursing Prisha's choice in clocks—the thing is fucking loud. And purely decorative, considering its lack of actual numbers to read from.
My grumbling stomach pulls another sigh from me. Food first, I decide. Then a shower, and then bed.
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