Suggest heading home since it's getting late, and see what tomorrow brings with a clearer head. This is all too much to fast

You set your glass down with a gentle clink, the pleasant buzz from Comfort Mode mingling with the ****'s warmth in your system. "I think I should head home," you say, your Irish lilt more pronounced with fatigue. "This has been...a lot to process in one day."

David immediately straightens, concern crossing his features. "Of course. We've been pushing you from one thing to another since this morning."

"Understatement of the century," you mutter, gathering your clutch. "I woke up as one person and now I'm..." you gesture at your glamorous appearance, the emerald wrap dress, the extensions cascading past your shoulders.

Clara pouts playfully. "Just when things were getting interesting." Her eyes flick between you and David. "But I suppose you're right. Beauty sleep is essential, especially with that fresh makeover."

David settles the bill while Clara helps you navigate standing in heels, your smaller body still adjusting to its new center of gravity. The cool night air hits your exposed skin as you exit the pub, making you shiver slightly.

"Here," David says, shrugging off his jacket and draping it around your shoulders. The fabric engulfs your petite frame, still warm from his body. That flutter returns to your stomach at the gentlemanly gesture.

"What a cliché," Clara teases, but there's warmth in her smile. "I'll grab a taxi home. You two should talk anyway." Before either of you can protest, she's already hailing a black cab. "Call me tomorrow, Mia. We'll plan that shopping trip!"

She kisses your cheek, whispers "He's absolutely smitten" in your ear, then slides into the cab with a wink.

Left alone with David, you begin the walk back to what was once your shared bachelor pad. The silence between you is charged with unspoken questions.

"So," he finally says, hands in his pockets. "How are you really feeling about all this?"

You laugh, the sound softer and more melodious than you're used to. "How do you think? I'm wearing a push-up bra and heels. I just had a full makeover. I'm walking home with my flatmate who I kissed like we're on some bizarre first date." You shake your head. "And the strangest part is...it doesn't feel as wrong as it should."

"The Comfort Mode thing you mentioned?" he asks perceptively.

You nod, impressed he picked up on it. "It just takes the edge off. Makes it easier to... exist like this without constantly freaking out."

David stops walking, turning to face you under a streetlight. "I know this is completely insane, but I need to say something." He takes a breath. "I know who you are—who you were this morning. But I'm also... attracted to who you are now. And that's really fucking with my head."

The confession hangs in the air between you, honest and complicated.

"Mine too," you admit quietly. "I keep having these...reactions to you that I've never had before. It's like my body knows things my brain is still figuring out."

He reaches out, hesitantly tucking a strand of copper hair behind your ear. "Let's get home. Get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow will make more sense."

But as you continue walking, his hand occasionally brushing against yours in the darkness, you wonder if anything about this situation will ever make sense again.

23:45 | Saturday 2 August 2025 | Walking back to flat, Putney

[Comfort Mode Level 1] | 09:45 hours remaining