Long pause. So long he thought he’d ruined everything. Eight years of friendship, of late-night movies and Sunday pancakes, of knowing exactly how she took her coffee and which laugh meant she was faking it. All of it, torched by a misdelivered sauce packet.
Mia stood there in her pajama shorts and an old band tee, hair in a messy bun, clutching her own bag of Knock Knock Chicken. Her cheeks were pink — from the cold night air, or maybe something else. knock knock hot
And for the first time all night, Leo wasn’t sweating at all. Long pause
