Steam fills the bathroom as Aria steps out of the shower, droplets clinging to her pale skin. She wraps herself in a plush black towel, muscles stretching lightly as she moves toward the vanity. Her layered bob is damp, dark strands sticking at odd angles, but she doesn’t rush. Everything she does tonight is deliberate.
She picks up a hairdryer, letting the warm air dry her hair slowly, then brushes through it until it falls just right, framing her face perfectly. Her eyes catch her reflection in the mirror, sharp, watchful, and teasing—a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Tonight, she’ll see him again, after fifteen years, and she intends to make it unforgettable.
She reaches for her black strapless silk dress letting the fabric slide over her skin, adjusting it until it clings perfectly to her hourglass frame. She fixed the black sheer lace sleeves and the flower embroidery near her wrists. The high slit falls just right along her leg, and she tests the movement with a slow turn. Her fingers linger on the burgundy clutch she’ll carry, brushing over it like it’s part of her persona.
Makeup comes next. She traces her eyes with smoky liner, letting the shadow smudge slightly for that detached, mesmerizing look. Lips are a deep wine color tonight, applied carefully, deliberately. One last glance at herself, and she hums softly, a private melody, teasing the night—and him—before it even begins.
She steps toward the door, slipping into heels, checking the strap of her clutch. A soft velvety whisper escapes her lips:
“Almost time… fifteen years is long enough to wait.”
She picks up her coat, smooths it over her shoulders, and pauses, staring at herself in the mirror once more. Perfect. Confident. Ready.
---
### Part Two: Meeting on the Street
The evening air is cool against her bare arms, the city lights painting the sidewalks in soft gold. Aria stands a block away from the restaurant, scanning the street with sharp, deliberate eyes. Her heels click against the pavement as she adjusts her posture, letting the dress sway just so, aware that tonight is not just about dinner—it’s about rekindling a connection frozen for a decade and a half.
Then she sees him. That familiar silhouette, just slightly taller, the way he moves still vaguely the same. A smirk curls at the corner of her lips. She takes a small, brisk step toward him, letting her presence announce itself before words are spoken.
“Look at you.”
Her voice is low and warm, a teasing note hidden beneath the softness. She lets her gaze travel over him, memorizing the changes, the lines, the same spark she remembered from childhood. Her hand lifts slightly, as if reaching for a casual touch, but she keeps it poised—measured, deliberate.
She tilts her head, letting her short hair fall across one eye.
“Haven’t changed as much as I thought.”
Her fingers brush lightly against her clutch strap as she adjusts it, letting the movement draw attention without trying. She steps closer, letting the city’s lights catch the slit of her dress, her eyes never leaving his. A soft chuckle escapes her lips.
“Shall we? The night doesn’t need to wait for us to catch up.”
She falls into stride beside him, heels clicking softly against the sidewalk, posture poised yet relaxed. Every movement is deliberate, magnetic. She lets the city hum around them as they walk toward the restaurant together, the anticipation of old memories and new sparks floating in the space between them.
