KNOCKING AT YOUR DOOR. S.L ᭬🍏᮫᭮ᮬ (who’s there?)
⧼IM LOST IN ADMIRATION, COULD I NEED YOU THIS MUCH? ⧽
NOBODY TOLD ME THE NEIGHBOR’S DAUGHTER WOULD BE HOT. 𖤓 ─────── the girl next door moves in and sophia realizes she might be a little too easy to fall in love—but it’s fine, because the girl falls just as hard.
(📺) ! 𓂃 𝒮ophia Laforteza x 𝒻 ! reader ⬞ ׄ ❀. : 2000s au , Fluff , Strangers to Friends to Lovers , WC. 5k .
SOPHIA HUMS AS SHE LISTENS TO LARA ON THE OTHER END OF THE PHONE, journaling. Some disaster about Megan wearing flannel on their latest date. She’d been invited out by her mother to greet their new neighbors, but—priorities.
“Anyways,” Lara concludes, “you should go see your mom outside.”
“Lara,” Sophia grumbles into her phone, “do I have to say hi to these neighbors?”
“It would be courteous,” Lara notes.
Sophia walks over to her window, eyes trailing over the neighbor’s lawn. “Yeah, but I’m in the middle of journaling, and—” Sophia’s jaw drops, cutting her sentence short.
“Hello?” Lara asks, her words falling on deaf ears. “Sophia, are you there?”
She stares out the window in disbelief. “Okay, nobody told me the neighbor’s daughter would be hot. Lara, I have to go speak to this woman.”
Sophia snaps her phone shut and jumps in front of the mirror, toying with the strands of her hair and adjusting her glasses. She pops a breath mint into her mouth before running down the stairs and out onto the street.
Her mother is already there, talking to the woman who must be the one moving in. Sophia, however, turns her attention to the girls—more specifically, the girl.
She’s beautiful. Like, so beautiful. Sophia is pretty sure she might actually pass away if she says anything wrong.
Sophia looks down. She hadn’t even thought about the panda slippers she’d slipped on earlier, too focused on making sure her face looked presentable. She reddens. “Oh—thanks.” Not the first impression she wanted to make, especially not with the slight panting from running out of the house. “So… you’re moving in?”
“That’s what it looks like,” you laugh, and Sophia laughs along—unnaturally and forced, but anything to keep the interaction going.
“I’m Sophia Laforteza,” she introduces, pushing her glasses up her nose.
Yn. Sophia notes the inflection in your voice. It’s cute—really cute. Yn-cute.
“So,” Sophia sways back and forth on her heels, a habit she’s had her whole life. “What made you guys decide to move to LA?”
“Well, my family is from Honolulu, Hawaii, to be specific” you start, “but my mom’s sister already has a family here, and she figured it would be a nice opportunity to move and be closer to her sister.”
Sophia nods. She probably already knows what your aunt is like, curiosity flickering through her mind.
“You moved here too,” you notes. “i heard your mom’s accent, also your last name isn’t common in here—you’re Filipina, right?”
“My last name could easily be Jeung,” Sophia shrugs. “I moved here when I was younger. We just wanted new opportunities, I guess.”
You let out a small “ah” in understanding. Sophia thinks it’s the cutest thing she’s ever heard. Where has this woman been all her life?
“Since you know the area so well,” you add, “you’ll have to tell me any good places. Even if they’re touristy.”
“All the tourists go to New York anyway,” Sophia jokes. “But I’ll let you know. I could even take you around town, if you’d like.”
You smile. “Well, you know where to find me.”
“Sophia!” her mother finally calls. “Come say hi to Ms. Jeung!”
Sophia does as she’s told, suffering through polite conversation with Yn’s mother before slipping back into her house and upstairs—where she immediately updates Lara.
[ Subject ; DID YOU FORGET ABOUT ME LITTLE SHIT ]
[ Subject ; HOT SINGLES ARE IN MY AREA ]
sooo i did go talk to the girl. she’s so… i literally can’t describe it. the woman is ACTUALLY so fine don’t even piss me off. i offered to take her around town so… look at me go!! only problem is i was in my panda slippers and that was the FIRST thing she pointed out. gonna go cry now
honestly good for you! minus the slippers—i personally would not have spoken to you after that. also: megan’s hosting a bbq tomorrow, so lmk if you’ll be there!
[ Subject ; OFC I WILL DUH ]
and imagine if yn’s there too oh i’d actually pass away
[ Subject ; PROLLY NOT LOL ]
but i do feel like i recognize that name from somewhere… hm. looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!
“You have no idea, Lara.” Your face crosses Sophia’s mind again. “She was so…”
Lara stares at her, unimpressed. Sophia’s only been at the barbecue for a few minutes, but she’s already told Lara everything she knows about you. Twice. “Soph, your descriptions don’t help me if you never finish them.”
Sophia huffs. “You’re practically my younger sister. You should be able to read my mind.”
“We aren’t even related.”
Sophia pouts, her attention drifting elsewhere. Their parents are all chatting in a corner, leaving a few scattered groups of kids their age. Megan’s dad works the grill while her mom hovers nearby.
“Mei,” Sophia whines, “how long until we eat?”
Megan rolls her eyes, then glances toward the gate. Her expression shifts immediately. “Yn!”
Yn? Sophia nearly jumps when she follows Megan’s gaze. You’re walking in with an easy smile, hair catching the sunlight, laughing softly at something Megan says as you greet her.
“Oh!” Lara snaps her fingers. “Yn’s Megan’s cousin. She’s mentioned her before.”
As if that helps at all. “Lara, I look like ass right now. She’s not even going to look at me dressed like this.”
“You look fine,” Lara says, scanning Sophia’s cropped tee and flared low-rise jeans. “This is literally all you wear.”
Sophia tries to believe her. It’s better than yesterday’s oversized hoodie, but still—not her best. Had she known you were coming…
“Oh, Sophia!” you wave, bright and unmistakably warm. You remember her.
Lara nudges Sophia, who stands up quickly and waves back. “Yn! I didn’t think I’d see you here!”
“And I didn’t think you were thirsting over my cousin,” Megan mutters, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs.
“I know, right?” you say, slipping your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “It’s a really small town.”
“Oh, definitely,” Megan answers for Sophia.
Sophia shoots Lara a look that says get your girlfriend away from me and my future girlfriend. Lara takes the hint, resting a hand on Megan’s shoulder. “Hi, Yn. I’m Lara, Megan’s girlfriend.”
You give her a wave as Lara hastily whispers something into her ear. Megan’s face goes distant, dazed as she usually is whenever Lara confesses her undying love or offers to go have them make out in a corner. Clearly, it’s the latter, and Sophia shoots Lara another look (this time apologetic) as she leaves her and you.
“Megan’s right,” Sophia says, picking the conversation back up. “It’s kind of nice, though. You get to know everyone.”
She gestures around, brushing your arm lightly as she points people out. It’s accidental—mostly—but Sophia definitely notices the warmth of you beside her.
“You must be warm,” Sophia says, trying to sound casual. “It’s, like, way too hot for a jacket.”
You laugh softly and shrug it off, draping it over the back of a lawn chair. Underneath, you’re wearing a fitted tank, the fabric soft and slightly loose at the sides, skin warm and sun-kissed.
Sophia absolutely does not stare. Not at the line of your collarbone. Not at the way the tank moves when you turn.
“You’ve got a really nice community here,” you say.
“Can I get your number, then?”
Sophia blinks. She somehow successfully stops the “guhhh” brewing in the back of her throat, fumbling for her phone in her back pocket. She fails at flipping it open a few times before finally succeeding. “Yeah. Sure,” she answers, throat dry.
You get your phone out too, quickly exchanging numbers with sophia. At that moment, Megan and Lara return, faces red. Lara looks over Sophia before whispering something into Megan’s ears.
“Yn,” Megan says, “can you help me bring another table out?”
You give Sophia a quick smile before following Megan inside. Sophia collapses into her chair beside Lara.
“What did you do?” she asks.
“Nothing,” Lara says innocently. “I just noticed what you were staring at.”
When you return with Megan, the table balanced between you, Sophia’s attention catches not on strength, but on the way you tuck your hair behind your ear, the soft concentration on your face.
“Lara,” Sophia mutters, “I’m going to kill you.”
“Oh, don’t even lie,” Lara sneers. “I accept thanks in the form of cash or chocolate covered strawberries.”
The girl only rolls her eyes, sitting down in her chair. you appear by her side, moving your chair closer to sophia’s before sitting down beside her. It’s truly a small gesture, but sophia knows that it’s the type of thing she’ll be giggling about to Lara at three in the morning whispering “she wants me so bad!!!!” into the night.
“Don’t forget to message me,” you whispers into sophia’s ear at one point, and somewhere between the breath on her neck and the hand on her thigh, there are butterflies swarming through her body
Sophia finally forces herself to message you a few days later, biting her nails as she sends a handful of short texts. One of the hotspots in their city is the central mall, and she figures it’d be a safe choice for a little date—totally platonic, obviously.
You agree, and within an hour you’re knocking on Sophia’s door. She adjusts her glasses one last time before slipping outside, smiling when she sees you.
You grin back. “So. The mall?”
“Pretty sure that’s what my message said,” Sophia quips.
You scoff, playfully shoving her shoulder. Sophia immediately catalogs the moment as a personal highlight before sighing and leading the way.
Once they arrive, Sophia wastes no time dragging you into a clothing store, eyes wide as she gawks at the displays. She points inside, grinning. “I should buy you something. As a welcome gift.”
Your eyes widen, and you shake your head. “Oh, please—you don’t have to do that.”
“Take it as a late birthday gift.”
You don’t argue with that. “When’s yours?”
“December thirty-first,” Sophia answers absentmindedly, already pulling you into the store.
You nod. “That’s soon. I’ll have to get you something.”
She doesn’t respond to that. Instead, she adds, “I’ll buy you whatever you look good in.”
The problem is that you look good in everything Sophia hands you—and Sophia does not have limitless money. If she did, you’d be swimming in clothes. The café tips from last summer didn’t stretch very far. You somehow pull off varsity jackets, sweaters, button-ups, low-cut tanks, even the blazer you throw over your graphic tee as a joke.
“You look good in everything,” Sophia grumbles, draping another shirt over your arm.
Your eyes widen. “Really?”
“Then I’ll decide,” you say, smiling despite the stack of clothes balanced against you. “You go look around. See if there’s anything you like.”
Sophia does a brief scan of the store—cute bags hanging from hooks, a fuzzy pink sweater she lingers on for half a second too long, a couple of graphic tees.
“This one,” you decide, holding up a bright pink varsity jacket that had been buried at the bottom of the pile.
Sophia laughs when she sees it, taking the rest of the clothes to the return rack. “Way to make a statement.”
You beam. “It’s a nice color.”
Sophia can’t argue with that. She buys the jacket, asks for a bag just for the dramatic effect, and refuses to let you peek inside.
They grab food from the food court—Sophia pays after finding out you’re a year younger, insisting that “older people treat.” The date—hangout, technically—ends at your doorstep, where Sophia finally hands the bag back to you.
“Happy belated birthday,” she says.
You take it, holding back a laugh. “For me? Crazy.”
You pull out the jacket, oohing and ahhing as required, slipping it on until Sophia finally waves you off.
“In all seriousness,” you say, smiling softly, “I had fun today, Sophia.”
“Oh.” She blushes. “Me too. Really.”
“Promise we’ll do this again sometime?”
You stick out your pinky. Sophia smiles—it’s stupidly cute—and links hers with yours.
Your offer materializes in a message a few days later.
[ Subject ; BEACH TRIP? ]
hey, phia! i was wondering if you wanted to go to the beach tonight?
Sophia stares at the message. She’d made plans to go out with Lara and Megan, but sometimes priorities were necessary.
[ Subject ; CANT MAKE DINNER OOPS ]
sorry not sorry! yn just asked me out on a date
see normally i’d be pissed off but you’ve been less bitchy ever since she moved here so i’ll let it slide
now what’s THAT supposed to mean??? i was going to ask to reschedule but now i dont think i will
You knock on Sophia’s door at exactly eight, wearing the bright pink varsity jacket she bought you. Sophia was right—it’s a little over the top, but it still fits you perfectly as you offer your hand.
“You look like a dork,” Sophia jokes, taking it.
You laugh, voice bright and full. “But you bought it for me. Of course I have to be over the top.”
The beach isn’t far from their corner of the city, only a short walk, but it’s long enough for Sophia to become acutely aware that they’re holding hands the entire way.
When they arrive, the sun is setting earlier than usual. They waste a moment sitting in the sand, looking up at the first forming stars before turning back to the soft colors bleeding across the sky.
“Want to walk?” you ask after a while.
Sophia nods, though the first thing she notices is how they’d been sitting in comfortable silence, enjoying nothing but each other’s presence.
You take her hand again to pull her up, not letting go as they walk along the shoreline.
Can I say something crazy? Sophia wants to ask. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you.
But it feels like too much. Even in the moments where you look at her like she built the universe and hung the stars herself. Even on a day like this, walking hand in hand along the beach, watching the sunset like a couple.
A couple. That’s what they are, right? In the talking stage.
“Hey.” Your voice snaps Sophia out of her thoughts. “What are you thinking about, Phia?”
So you’re at that point already—where you can read her easily. “Nothing,” Sophia repeats. “Everything.”
“Be more specific,” you prod, nudging her gently.
Sophia takes a breath. “Us.”
You don’t answer right away, and Sophia can’t decide if she’s thankful for the silence or terrified of it. They keep walking, and she turns her attention back to the sunset.
“Can I say something?” you ask.
Sophia nods, still not looking at you.
You let the waves fill the silence before speaking. “I really—” you start, an awkward laugh caught in your throat. “I really like you, Phia.”
Sophia clears her throat. “Oh,” she hums, strained. She tries again. “Oh.”
You click your tongue softly. “I shouldn’t have said that, huh?”
“No!” Sophia rushes. “No,” she repeats, slower. “No, I really…”
She bites her tongue. There’s no point hiding it now. “I really like you too, Yn.”
You exhale—clearly a breath you’d been holding. Sophia squeezes your hand, unsure what else to do.
“Well,” you say, squeezing back.
Your hands are warm. The sun is gone now, and Sophia shivers slightly.
“Wait.” You let go, slipping off your letterman jacket. “Hold this.” Sophia does, watching as you pull off your hoodie, revealing a brief sliver of toned stomach before your shirt falls back into place. You swap the jacket for the hoodie in her hands. “Put that on.”
You give her a playful look, and Sophia pulls the hoodie over her head. It’s warm, smells like your laundry detergent, and fits just a little oversized.
“Let’s go home,” you say.
Sophia nods, finally looking at you properly. Your cheeks are faintly pink, and she’s sure hers match.
They walk back in silence, but it isn’t an empty one. Sophia has so much she wants to say, but no way to shape it. All she knows is this: she doesn’t want you to leave. Ever.
At her doorstep, Sophia turns and smiles. “Thank you,” she says. “Today was nice.”
You nod, your gaze flicking to her lips for just a second. Sophia hopes—briefly—that you’ll kiss her, but you look back up instead.
“I’ll call you?” you ask.
Sure enough, just as Sophia crawls into bed, her phone rings. She answers immediately.
“So,” Sophia echoes. Her room is quiet—only your breathing on the line. She closes her eyes, imagining she’s resting against your chest. Maybe that’s just the hoodie she’s still wearing.
“I forgot to return your hoodie,” Sophia says.
You laugh softly. “You didn’t need to. Are you still wearing it?”
Sophia snuggles into it. “Yeah.”
“Oh…” She toys with the strings. “I could never.”
“What if I just refuse to take it back?”
Sophia scoffs. “I’ll force you to.”
“There’s no dramatic backstory to it,” you say lightly. “Besides—you look cute in it.”
“Uh-huh,” Sophia mutters. “How was life back in Hawaii, actually? I never asked.”
So you tell her. About your friends—An Yujin, Kazuha, Gyuvin. About school, about home. Your voice carries something bittersweet, and Sophia feels a small pang of jealousy hearing how fondly you speak of them.
“Phia?” you ask after a while. “You’re quiet.”
“Oh.” She sits up. “I’m listening.”
You laugh. “If it helps, Yujin and Kazuha were—and still are—dating.”
Sophia exhales softly, relaxing back into her bed. It’s warm under the blankets, warmer with your hoodie, but she doesn’t take it off. “Continue,” she murmurs.
Listening to you is easy. Sophia could listen for hours, just to hear your voice, to exist near you. It’s lovely—the care you put into your memories, the way you savor them.
“I…” love you almost slips out, so quiet you don’t hear it.
You keep talking. Your voice lulls her toward sleep. The last thing Sophia hears is a soft, fond “Phia?” before you sigh and murmur, “Good night.”
Sophia wakes up on her birthday to find breakfast waiting on her bedside table, still warm. It’s been a tradition her mom has kept for the past few years—breakfast in bed, always with a little note wishing her well.
Outside, the house still smells faintly like pine and cinnamon, remnants of Christmas refusing to leave just yet. Fairy lights blink softly around her room, leftovers from the holidays. December always feels slow like this, like it’s holding its breath.
Sophia smiles as she starts to eat, biting into the toast her mother worked oh-so-carefully to make. Usually, she’s left alone until she comes downstairs, so the knock at her door catches her off guard.
“Sophi!” Her mother pokes her head in, cheerful as ever. “First of all—happy birthday. And second, someone’s at the door for you.”
“The girl next door, I’m pretty sure.”
Sophia resists the urge to jump out of bed and spill the tray in her lap. She carefully sets it aside, slips out of bed, and makes her way downstairs.
Through the peephole, she sees you shifting from foot to foot, hands full with a familiar shopping bag—the same one from the store you’d gone to together. The porch lights glow softly behind you, the last of the neighborhood’s Christmas decorations still hanging.
Sophia opens the door. “H—”
“Happy birthday!” You grin, holding out the bag. “I said I’d get you something, right?”
“Oh!” Sophia takes it, opening it immediately. Inside is the fuzzy pink sweater she’d been staring at for far too long that day.
When she looks back up, she realizes you’re wearing the letterman jacket from the beach. You look absurdly pleased with yourself, grin wide and proud. “Now we match.”
Sure enough, she lifts the sweater and sees it—the pinks are identical. “That’s… really nice.”
You nod. “Also, loving the outfit.”
Sophia glances down. She’s still wearing your hoodie, having refused to sleep without it since that night, paired with pajama pants decorated with Miffy’s face. As if the universe wants to embarrass her further, she notices she’s also wearing the same panda slippers from the very first day she met you.
“It’s cute,” you say easily, ruffling her hair.
Sophia looks at you. Really looks. The faint chill in the air, the glow from the porch lights, the end-of-year quiet settling between houses. She’s spent the past few nights staying up far too late talking to you on the phone, and this is the first time she’s seen you since the beach. That night had felt dangerously close to a date—and standing here now, she remembers how badly she’d wanted to kiss you.
Sophia presses her lips together. Not now. There’ll be a better time. “Can you come back tomorrow?”
Your eyebrows knit together, confused—but gentle. “Sure.”
“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Sophia says quickly. “And… thank you so much, Yn.”
She pulls you into a hug, hoping it’s enough to reassure you. The hoodie tightens around her shoulders as you relax into her arms. She presses a light kiss against your neck before pulling away.
“Thank you, Phia,” you murmur.
Sophia watches you step back into the cold evening air, the last day of the year stretching out ahead of her.
Tomorrow is going to be a day—
if Sophia has anything to say about it.
Sophia, for the first time all winter, chooses to wake up early. January first feels different—quiet, like the world is still stretching after last night. The streets outside are empty, the air crisp and clean, like a reset button has been pressed.
She throws on her new sweater and a beret in a similar shade of pink, sighing at herself in the mirror. It’s way too early in knowing you for confessions of undying, comically extreme love—but a woman can dream. And if there’s ever a day for dreaming, it’s the first of the year.
You knock on the door at exactly twelve, and Sophia is already there to open it. She can tell you’re nervous by the way you shift side to side, but when she notices you’re wearing the letterman jacket again (for the second day in a row, but she chooses to ignore that), she relaxes. Whatever today becomes, it already feels right.
“So…” you trail off as Sophia steps outside and starts walking down the road. “Where are we going?”
“Last time we went to the beach, all the shops were closed,” Sophia explains. “There’s a bubble tea place on the boardwalk I think you’d love. It’s kind of… essential.”
And the hotspot for romance.
You follow a step behind before a soft, rushed “wait!” slips out. You reach forward, gently taking Sophia’s hand and falling into step beside her. She tries not to show how affected she is by something so small, but the warmth in her cheeks betrays her anyway.
“Oh—sorry.” You lift their intertwined hands slightly, concern written all over your face. “Is this okay?”
“Of course,” Sophia answers, nearly choking on the words—but they’re out, and that’s that.
It takes about half an hour to reach the boardwalk. You look around with clear interest, eyes flicking from store to store. January has thinned the crowds; everything feels calmer, slower. A tattoo parlour. A barber shop. A small market. A few overpriced restaurants still recovering from New Year’s Eve.
Sophia notices your gaze linger on the tattoo parlour. “Are you planning on getting a tattoo?”
“I already have two,” you admit. You lift your jacket just enough to show the script along your ribs—without love in the dream it will never come true—before letting it fall back into place. Then, with a quick, almost shy movement, you tug your jeans down just slightly, revealing the delicate lily tattoo at your hip before fixing them again.
Sophia wants to kiss each celestial body. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You never asked,” you shrug, slipping your hand back into hers like it belongs there.
The bubble tea shop is just as pink and cozy as always, still decorated with leftover holiday hearts and glitter that Valentine’s Day will soon claim. “Do you know what you’re ordering yet?” Sophia asks.
“I’ll probably just get a regular milk tea.”
“Boring,” Sophia teases, leaning against the counter.
Daniela Avanzini is working, and after Sophia orders, Daniela glances between the two of you, lowering her voice. “Is she…?”
“Not yet,” Sophia says easily. “But soon.”
Daniela gives her a thumbs-up before turning around. Sophia leads you to a booth in the corner. The shop is nearly empty—just a couple other pairs tucked away in quiet corners.
“Does anyone come here alone?” you ask.
“It’s kind of a couples’ spot,” Sophia shrugs. “Lara and Megan showed me.”
When Daniela calls them up, she slides over their drinks and a massive brownie, a small note taped to the plate: good luck! Sophia brings everything back to the table.
“Woah,” you say, staring. “When did you pay for that?”
“I didn’t,” Sophia replies, tucking the note away. The brownie is enormous—Made for Two Deluxe, though she doesn’t mention that.
They take their time with it, sharing bites and quiet smiles. When everything’s gone, you lean back with a sigh. “That was amazing. Guess I owe you again.”
“You don’t,” Sophia says as she stands, gathering the empty plate. “This is me treating you.”
“But I want to,” you insist, following her.
“No,” Sophia says simply, waving to Daniela as they leave.
You keep pestering her as they walk toward the beach steps, the ocean glittering softly in the winter sun.
“There is one thing I want,” Sophia finally admits.
You brighten instantly. “What is it?”
She leads you to her favorite spot—a quiet corner near the small waterfall that feeds into a pond. January sunlight reflects off the water, the sky impossibly clear. “Let’s sit.”
You sit beside her, shifting slightly. Sophia exhales, steadying herself.
“Okay.” She turns to face you. “Yn.”
“Yn.” She sighs. “I think I’m in love with you.”
You don’t hesitate. “I think I’m in love with you.”
The way you look at her—so open, so certain—makes Sophia realize you always have. You reach for her hands, and they fit together perfectly.
“Phia,” you say softly, “can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” she answers, and the way you lean in tells her she’s not alone in having waited.
You cup her cheeks, and Sophia loops her arms around your shoulders. Kissing you feels like breathing for the first time. When you pull back slightly, their noses bump together, making her laugh.
“I can’t believe—” she starts, then gives up entirely.
You pull her closer. “God, I really love you. I know it’s soon, but—”
“No,” Sophia says quickly, smiling so hard it hurts. “I love you too.”
She kisses you again, tipping sideways until you both tumble into the sand. You laugh, rolling them so Sophia ends up pinned beneath you, squealing.
“God,” she huffs. “Today was not a good day for a sweater.”
“It’s January,” you say smugly. “That’s exactly what it’s for.”
“Smartass.” She ruffles your hair, kissing your cheek, completely gone.
Only then does Sophia check her phone.
remember the reschedule? it’s today at 4 not 7. boardwalk. don’t be late
sorry was busy kissing Yn see you in 5!!
“I have dinner with Megan and Lara in two minutes.”
You sit up, taking her hand. “I think you should run.”
“Depends,” Sophia says, standing and pulling you up with her. “Are you free for dinner?”
She kisses you quickly. “Then I’m sure they won’t mind a double date.”
You wrap an arm around her, and Sophia settles into it easily as they walk. Their footsteps fall into sync.
They look up to see Lara leaning dangerously over the boardwalk railing, Megan clutching her jacket with concern. Lara waves her phone wildly. “What is this?”
“Nothing!” Sophia calls back, grinning.
You glance at her. “Should I be scared?”
Sophia shakes her head. “We have nothing to worry about.”
She looks back at Lara—dramatic—and Megan—stressed—and smiles.
AH DON’T TAKE MY HEART, DON’T BREAK MY HEART
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