It’s late.
The city is still awake—
she doesn’t want to go home.
She sits in the corner,
glass half full.
When he steps closer,
his shadow falls over her.
“Mind if I sit?”
She doesn’t answer—
just makes room.
Too close to be casual.
Knees touch.
No one moves away.
The music is loud,
his voice isn’t.
“Anyone waiting for you tonight?”
“Not right now.”
One step forward,
and there’s no turning back.
When he says—
“Want to move somewhere else?”
she stands.
No answer
is the most dangerous yes.
A night of sinking—
awake,
and choosing it.
