Corazón

III.

The sun streamed through the curtains of Rio's bedroom, casting a warm glow over the cluttered space as she rifled through her wardrobe. Clothes were strewn across the bed—skirts, sweaters, and dresses of every imaginable color. She tugged out a particularly vibrant polka-dot skirt and held it up to the mirror with a frown.

Nacho lay sprawled lazily across the foot of the bed, his head resting on his paws, watching the scene with mild interest. Sitting beside him, more engaged, was Edith—Rio's neighbor and one of the few friends she had made since moving to York. Edith was watching the whole spectacle with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, sipping tea as if she were witnessing some grand drama unfold.

"This one's too much, isn't it?" Rio asked, holding the polka-dot skirt up for a moment longer before tossing it onto the growing pile of discarded outfits. "I mean, it's dinner, not a circus."

Edith raised an eyebrow, her dark curls bobbing as she shook her head with a laugh. "You? Too much? Now that's something I never thought I'd hear you say."

Rio ignored the comment, pulling another outfit from the wardrobe—a pleated skirt in soft pastels, paired with a yellow cropped sweater with daisies embroidered across the front. "Okay, what about this one? Too... childish?" She twirled in place, the skirt flaring out in a soft, rainbow swirl.

Edith sipped her tea, eyeing her friend with a knowing smile. "It's adorable, but you've got that nervous energy radiating off you, girl. You usually wear these kinds of clothes like armor. Today, you're acting like you're going into battle."

Rio glanced down at her outfit, then back up at the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with wide eyes. "I don't know why I'm so nervous," she muttered, pulling at the hem of the sweater. "It's just dinner."

"Just dinner?" Edith laughed, setting her mug down on the bedside table. "That's not what it looks like from here. You've tried on, what? Five outfits in the last ten minutes?"

"Six," Rio corrected, grabbing another dress off the bed—a baby-blue number with ruffled sleeves and little embroidered flowers. She held it up in front of her, staring into the mirror with uncertainty. "And none of them feel right."

Edith gave her a long look, then leaned back against the pillows, petting Nacho absentmindedly. "What's got you so worked up, then? This isn't your first date, is it?"

Rio paused, the dress still clutched in her hands. "Actually... I think it might be?" She turned toward Edith, her face half-apologetic, half-confused. "I mean, I haven't been on a real date in... God, I don't even know how long. Between the academy and the missions, it's just not something I've had time for."

Edith's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait. You're telling me you can stare down the barrel of a gun, but a dinner date has you losing your cool?"

"I am cool," Rio insisted, though she didn't sound very convincing. She flopped onto the bed, her pastel skirt fanning out around her like a kaleidoscope of color. "It's just... this guy is different. I don't know why. He's quiet, intense, and it's like he's got this whole world behind his eyes that I can't figure out."

"Sounds mysterious," Edith teased, nudging Rio's foot with her own. "And here I thought you liked your men charming and chatty."

"I don't even know what I like anymore," Rio admitted, throwing an arm over her face dramatically. "He's not exactly the type to... I don't know, talk about his feelings over coffee. He's the type that barely speaks, and when he does, it's like every word's been calculated. Like he's been trained to give away nothing."

Edith smirked, her curiosity clearly piqued. "So what, he's like some kind of secret agent?"

Rio let out a laugh. "More like a human puzzle I'll never solve."