Fletcher lifts the cover on one of the tubs—the one furthest away—and the steam rises instantly, curling in the cold air like it’s exhaling. I don’t even realize how tense my body’s been until that heat wafts over and touches my face—my shoulders ache, my back pulls. Every part of me begs for that burning feeling of sliding into a hot tub with your skin all red and blood pressure questionably low. The air smells like rain that never came, mingled with the faintest hint of cinnamon from someone’s apartment below. The city lights glitter in the distance, just over the ledge, but up here it feels
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