You think you might be in love.

The walk back to the car is quiet. The weight of the shopping bags in your hands grounds you, but it’s the warmth of Gemma’s presence beside you that occupies your mind. The city lights flicker to life as the sun dips lower, casting a golden glow over the sidewalk. She hums softly, a tune you don’t recognize, her fingers tapping lightly against the handles of her bags. You steal a glance at her. She’s staring straight ahead, but there’s a softness to her expression, a contentment that wasn’t there before. It’s the same look she had when you stepped out of the alleyway. And now, watching her, you feel something tighten in your chest.

You load the bags into the trunk, and she leans against the car, watching you with an amused smirk.

“You’re quiet,” she says, tilting her head. “Regretting the purchase already?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, closing the trunk with a soft thud.

She laughs, but there’s something else in her eyes - something curious, like she’s trying to figure you out. You open the passenger door for her, and she slides in, her skirt riding up just enough to give you a glimpse of her thighs. As you walk around to the driver’s side, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted. You start the car, the engine purring to life, but your mind is elsewhere.