Something lodges in my throat as she pulls it open, bracing her hands on the doorframe so she can lean forward, giving the space a little sniff. Her eyelids flutter. “It’s nice.” My fists tighten in my pockets, stretching the irritated skin. “Nice?” She nods, a pretty, pink flush painting her cheeks as she closes the door and turns back to face me, her expression guarded. “Yes. I like it.” Oh. A dark and unfamiliar feeling is rising inside me, one I’m positive I’ve never experienced before and wouldn’t be able to name if my life depended on it.
