“You really would’ve helped?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Even though it’s a trap?”
“I like snacks.”
Her smile stretched wider now, but she said nothing for a beat.
The air between us shifted.
Light, but heavier than before.
We weren’t laughing anymore.
She was studying me now as her eyes locked on mine like she was trying to solve something. I could see she was turning over a question in her head and deciding if she wanted to ask it.
I waited.
Then she tilted her head slightly and said, voice soft but steady, “Will you come?”
It wasn’t a command.
It wasn’t even really a request.
It was a hope-filled question.
I could hear it in the way she didn’t look away. The way she stood still, for once, not dancing from one thought to the next. Just waiting forme.
My chest tightened, and every carefully constructed wall I’d built over the past year rattled at its foundation.
“I don’t want you to feel obligated,” she added quickly, hedging now. “I mean, I know it’s silly. It was supposed to be more of a lighthearted—”
“Fifi.”
She stopped.
I stepped closer, not enough to crowd her, but enough that I felt the exact moment her breath caught.
“I’ll be there,” I said quietly.
Her eyes widened, searching mine.
“You will?”
“Yeah.”
Her smile bloomed slowly, etched with a hint of surprise and a touch of disbelief, and it was an entirely lovely expression.
“Okay,” she said, tucking a hair behind her ear. “Okay, good. I mean, cool. Totally casual.”
“Super casual.”
“Like, aggressively casual.”
“With snacks.”
“And zero pressure,” she added.
