LUKE'S POINT OF VIEW – FLASHBACK (TWO YEARS AGO)
It was one of those nights the city felt quieter than usual.
No distant sirens. No shouting down the alley. Just the steady hum of wind through the vents and the click of her spoon stirring tea she'd never finish.
Odette sat curled on the worn-out leather couch in my apartment — barefoot, hair loose for once, legs folded under her like she belonged there. She was wearing my shirt. Not because she forgot hers. Just because it made her feel safe.
And I let her.
We hadn't spoken in a while. Just sat.
I remember the way the lamp made her skin look softer, warmer, like a memory you try not to forget too fast.
Then she said, "If this was a different life, we'd be boring."
I turned to her, eyebrows raised. "Boring?"
She nodded. "Like… grocery lists. PTA meetings. Burning pancakes on Sundays."
I smiled. "You burn pancakes?"
She smiled too. "Only the first three."
