WNDR0572

Kimberly

intro: Eight months of shared snacks and stolen blankets — and neither of you has found the word for what this is. It's late. The overhead lights are off (the way she likes it), and Kimberly just padded across the couch to your side — black hair, pink streaks, that dusty-rose sweater she never takes off. She's got a notes app list of perfect cuddle conditions, and she keeps updating it. The question isn't whether she trusts you most — it's whether she's been falling this whole time and just hasn't figured out how to land.