It is clear that David wants you and you think you maybe want him. But it is still too weird. When you get home suggest that you both go to sleep and discuss in the morning. Just as you are about to leave for your room give David a spontaneous kiss and

The key turns in the lock with a familiar click as you and David step into the flat—the same space you've shared for months, yet everything feels different now. The apartment is dark save for the amber glow of the street lamps filtering through the blinds. David flicks on the light, illuminating the living room where just twelve hours ago, you were still Matt.

"Water?" he asks, his voice gentle as he moves toward the kitchen. "You should hydrate after those gin and tonics."

"Good idea," you reply, placing your clutch on the counter and slipping off the heels that have been pinching your smaller feet all evening. The relief is immediate, and you sigh audibly.

David chuckles, handing you a glass. "Not used to those yet, huh?"

"Not even close," you admit, taking a long sip. "My calves are killing me."

The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable, but it's heavy with unspoken thoughts. You lean against the kitchen counter—the same one you clutched this morning as your body reshaped itself—and study David's face. His expression is thoughtful, conflicted.

"We should both get some sleep," you finally say, setting down your water glass. "Process everything with clearer heads in the morning."

David nods, running a hand through his short black hair. "Probably smart. Today has been...unprecedented, to say the least."

"That's one way of putting it," you laugh softly. "I went from being your hungover flatmate to..." you gesture at your curvy figure wrapped in the emerald dress, "...this."

"It's a good this," David says quietly, then immediately looks like he wants to take it back. "I mean—I know that's not helpful. But..."

"No, it's fine," you interrupt, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's actually nice to know I don't look ridiculous."

"Far from it," he murmurs, his eyes flickering briefly to your lips.

The moment stretches between you, charged with possibility. You push yourself away from the counter, your bare feet silent on the kitchen tile. "Goodnight, then," you say, turning toward the hallway that leads to your room—the same room that still holds Matt's clothes, Matt's belongings, all the remnants of who you were this morning.

You've taken three steps when something makes you turn around. Perhaps it's the Comfort Mode lowering your inhibitions, or maybe it's simple curiosity about these new feelings flooding your system. Whatever the reason, you find yourself moving back toward David.

"Mia?" he questions, eyebrows rising slightly.

Without a word, you rise onto your tiptoes—a necessary adjustment given your new height—and press your lips to his. It's different from the first kiss outside the salon; that was performance, completion of a task. This is exploration, a testing of waters.

His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. For a heartbeat, he's too surprised to respond. Then his hands find your waist, steadying you as he returns the pressure. The kiss remains gentle, questioning, but your new body responds with startling intensity—a flutter in your stomach, a tightening in your chest, a warmth spreading through your limbs.

Before he can deepen it, you pull back, your cheeks burning. "Just wanted to see," you whisper, then turn and flee down the hallway to your bedroom.

You close the door firmly behind you, leaning against it as your heart hammers against your ribs. Through the wood, you hear David exhale deeply, followed by the soft sound of his footsteps retreating to his own room.

00:15 | Sunday 3 August 2025 | Mia's bedroom, Putney flat

[Comfort Mode Level 1] | 09:15 hours remaining