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Dani had never struggled like this before.
Like… ever.
This was actually embarrassing.
She stared at her phone, thumb hovering over yet another dry conversation, and physically recoiled. The guy had just sent “wyd” for the third time in ten minutes like he was buffering in real life. No thoughts. No personality. Just vibes, and not even good ones.
“Be serious,” Dani muttered to herself, tossing the phone onto her bed.
Her room was dim, lit only by the neon pink LED strip she’d impulsively bought at 3 a.m. last week. It made everything look hotter than it actually was, which felt ironic considering her current situation.
Because the problem wasn’t Dani.
Dani was hot. Like objectively. Universally agreed upon. People had told her that her whole life, unprovoked. She had the kind of face that made strangers double-take and the kind of confidence that made people assume she always knew what she was doing.
She usually did.
But lately? The options were tragic.
Either they were boring, emotionally unavailable, weird in a way that felt unsafe, or—her personal least favorite—men who thought having a podcast was a personality trait.
And women?
Don’t even start.
Every girl she matched with either wanted something “low effort, no pressure, just vibes” or took three to five business days to reply. Dani was many things, but patient was not one of them.
She flopped back dramatically onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.
“This is actually insane,” she said out loud. “Like statistically impossible.”
Her best friend would’ve told her to take a break. Focus on herself. Maybe journal or something equally fake.
Dani grabbed her pillow and screamed into it instead.
When she resurfaced, hair wild, eyeliner slightly smudged, she felt that familiar restless energy buzzing under her skin. Not just frustration. Something deeper. Something she didn’t want to name.
She grabbed her phone again.
Scrolled.
Scrolled.
Paused.
There it was.
A name she hadn’t said out loud in months.
Manon.
Dani’s thumb hovered over the contact like it was radioactive.
No.
Absolutely not.
That was a terrible idea.
Like genuinely one of the worst ideas she’d ever had.
She had rules about this. Boundaries. Growth. Healing. All that annoying, mature stuff she’d pretended to care about after the breakup.
Going back to Manon would undo all of that in approximately five seconds.
Dani locked her phone.
Sat up.
Stood up.
Paced.
Unlocked her phone again.
“Okay but like… hypothetically,” she said, pointing at her own reflection in the mirror. “Hypothetically, it’s not about feelings. It’s just… convenience.”
Her reflection did not look convinced.
Dani sighed, running a hand through her hair.
Because here’s the thing.
Manon wasn’t just an ex.
Manon was the ex.
The one that stuck.
The one that lingered in random songs and late-night thoughts and the specific brand of cigarettes Dani pretended she didn’t like anymore.
They hadn’t ended clean.
There had been no big explosion, no dramatic cheating reveal or screaming match. Just… distance. Miscommunication. Too many unsaid things piling up until the silence got heavier than the relationship itself.
And Dani hated silence.
She grabbed her jacket.
“This is just for closure,” she said, already heading for the door.
Liar.
---
Manon lived in the same apartment she always had.
Of course she did.
Manon hated change.
Dani stood outside the building, staring up at the familiar windows, her heart doing something deeply annoying in her chest.
“Relax,” she muttered. “You’re literally just… visiting.”
At midnight.
Unannounced.
After months of no contact.
Totally normal behavior.
She buzzed anyway.
No answer.
Dani frowned, pressing it again.
Still nothing.
“Okay, cool,” she said, stepping back. “That’s actually fine. That’s probably for the best—”
The door clicked open.
Dani froze.
“…Oh.”
Well.
Too late now.
---
Manon’s apartment smelled the same.
That was the first thing Dani noticed.
A mix of laundry detergent, something faintly sweet, and cigarette smoke lingering in the air like it had nowhere else to go.
It hit her all at once, sharp and familiar, and for a second she forgot how to breathe.
She stood in the doorway, suddenly unsure of herself in a way that felt deeply unnatural.
Before she could overthink it further, the inner door opened.
And there she was.
Manon.
Baggy faded T-shirt. Oversized sweats hanging low on her hips. A cigarette between her fingers, smoke curling lazily into the air.
Her hair was a mess, like she’d run her hands through it one too many times. Her eyes were slightly glassy, not drunk, just… tired.
She looked exactly like Dani remembered.
Which was the problem.
Manon blinked, clearly surprised.
“…Dani?”
And just like that, the air shifted.
Dani’s brain short-circuited.
She had planned this whole thing in her head, rehearsed lines, imagined being cool and detached and effortlessly in control.
Instead, she did the one thing she always did around Manon.
She panicked.
“I need you to—” she started, then stopped, suddenly aware of how insane she sounded.
Manon raised an eyebrow.
Dani exhaled sharply, brushing past her into the apartment like momentum alone could save her now.
“I need you,” she said, trying again, words coming out faster than her brain could filter them, “to help me make a bad decision.”
Manon shut the door slowly.
“…That’s new,” she said, voice calm but edged with something Dani couldn’t quite place.
Dani turned around, crossing her arms like that would somehow make her feel less exposed.
“Not really,” she said. “You’ve always been my go-to for those.”
Manon huffed out a quiet laugh, taking another drag of her cigarette.
“Wow. Starting strong, I see.”
Dani shrugged, forcing a smirk.
“Had to make an entrance.”
There was a beat.
Then another.
And suddenly the space between them felt too small and too big at the same time.
Manon studied her, eyes lingering in a way that made Dani’s skin feel too tight.
“You look… the same,” Manon said finally.
Dani tilted her head.
“That’s your opening line?”
“I didn’t expect you to show up at midnight,” Manon replied. “Cut me some slack.”
Dani looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The way her heart was racing. The way Manon’s presence filled the room like it always had.
“Yeah, well,” she muttered. “I didn’t expect to come here either.”
Silence settled between them again, heavier this time.
Manon stubbed out her cigarette, tossing it into a half-full ashtray on the table.
“So,” she said, crossing her arms. “You wanna explain what this is?”
Dani hesitated.
This was the part where she was supposed to be honest.
She did not want to be honest.
“It’s nothing,” she said instead. “I was just in the area.”
Manon stared at her.
“Dani.”
“What?”
“You live twenty minutes away.”
“And?”
“And you don’t just ‘end up’ here.”
Dani opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Annoying.
Manon always saw right through her.
“It’s not a big deal,” Dani said, quieter now.
Manon stepped closer.
“Then why do you look like it is?”
That hit harder than it should have.
Dani swallowed, her usual confidence slipping just enough to feel it.
“Because,” she said slowly, “I’m tired.”
Manon frowned slightly.
“Tired of what?”
Dani laughed, but it came out hollow.
“Everything.”
And for the first time since she walked in, she dropped the act.
Her shoulders sagged, her gaze falling to the floor.
“I keep trying,” she admitted. “Like I’m really out here putting in effort, and it’s just… nothing. No one sticks. No one even tries to stick.”
Manon didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t make a joke or deflect or tell her to get over it.
She just listened.
Which somehow made it worse.
“I thought it was supposed to get easier,” Dani continued, voice tight. “Like you move on, you meet new people, you forget.”
She looked up then, meeting Manon’s eyes.
“But it’s not easier,” she said. “It’s just… emptier.”
The room felt unbearably quiet.
Manon’s expression had softened, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.
“Dani,” she said carefully, “you don’t just show up here because dating sucks.”
Dani let out a shaky breath.
“No,” she admitted.
“Then why?”
And there it was.
The question she’d been avoiding since she stepped into this building.
Dani hesitated, every instinct telling her to deflect, to joke, to run.
Instead, she said the truth.
“Because you’re the only person who ever felt real.”
The words hung in the air, fragile and dangerous.
Manon’s jaw tightened slightly.
“That’s not fair,” she said.
“I know.”
“You don’t get to just—” Manon gestured vaguely between them. “—say that like nothing happened.”
“I’m not saying nothing happened,” Dani shot back. “I’m saying everything happened and I don’t know what to do with that.”
Manon looked away, running a hand through her hair.
“You left,” she said quietly.
Dani flinched.
“I didn’t—”
“You did,” Manon interrupted. “Maybe not all at once, but you checked out. You stopped trying. You stopped talking to me.”
Dani’s chest tightened.
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“Of course it’s not.”
The tension snapped back into place, sharp and familiar.
Dani took a step closer.
“Then tell me how you remember it,” she said.
Manon hesitated.
For a second, it looked like she might actually do it.
Then she shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
Manon laughed bitterly.
“Yeah? Since when?”
That stung.
Dani’s voice dropped.
“Since I realized no one else even comes close.”
Another silence.
Longer this time.
Heavier.
Manon’s gaze flickered back to her, something conflicted and raw in her expression.
“You can’t just come back when it’s convenient,” she said.
“I’m not,” Dani replied. “I’m here because I don’t know how to stay away.”
And that was the most honest thing she’d said all night.
Manon exhaled slowly, like she was trying to steady herself.
“This is a bad idea,” she said.
“I know.”
“You’re gonna leave again.”
Dani swallowed.
“I don’t want to.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
No.
It wasn’t.
Dani looked at her, really looked at her, taking in every detail like she was trying to memorize it all over again.
“I messed up,” she said softly.
Manon didn’t respond.
“I thought I could find something better,” Dani continued. “Or easier. Or less… complicated.”
She let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh.
“Turns out, I was wrong.”
Manon’s expression shifted, something cracking just beneath the surface.
“You don’t get to realize that now,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because I needed you to realize it then.”
That landed.
Hard.
Dani felt it in her chest, sharp and immediate.
“I know,” she said.
And she did.
That was the worst part.
“I know,” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper. “I just… didn’t.”
Manon looked at her for a long moment, like she was trying to decide something.
Then she stepped back, creating space between them again.
“I can’t do this again,” she said.
Dani’s stomach dropped.
“Manon—”
“I mean it,” she continued. “I can’t go back to… whatever this was. Not if it’s just gonna end the same way.”
Dani clenched her fists at her sides.
“It won’t,” she said.
Manon shook her head.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I do,” Dani insisted, stepping forward again.
Manon didn’t move this time.
Didn’t step back.
Didn’t close the distance either.
They just stood there, inches apart, the air thick with everything they weren’t saying.
“You’re still the same,” Manon said quietly.
Dani’s chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you feel everything all at once and then act on it before it disappears.”
Dani blinked.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” Manon said. “You’re here because you felt something tonight. Something strong enough to bring you back.”
Dani opened her mouth, then closed it.
Because… yeah.
That was exactly what happened.
Manon’s voice softened, just slightly.
“But what happens when that feeling goes away?”
Dani didn’t have an answer.
And they both knew it.
The silence that followed was different.
Not tense.
Not angry.
Just… sad.
Dani looked at her, really looked this time, and felt something settle in her chest.
Not panic.
Not urgency.
Something quieter.
Something heavier.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Manon nodded slowly, like she expected that.
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s the problem.”
Dani swallowed hard.
“But I know I don’t want to lose you again.”
Manon’s expression flickered.
“You already did.”
Dani shook her head.
“Then why does it still feel like this?”
Manon didn’t answer.
Because she felt it too.
That much was obvious.
And maybe that was the worst part of all.
Because feelings weren’t the issue.
They never had been.
It was everything else.
Dani let out a slow breath, stepping back this time.
Giving Manon space.
For the first time since she walked in.
“I should go,” she said.
The words felt wrong even as she said them.
Manon didn’t stop her.
Didn’t ask her to stay.
Just watched.
Dani hesitated at the door, her hand hovering over the handle.
“Hey,” she said, not turning around.
“Yeah?”
Dani swallowed.
“I meant what I said.”
Manon didn’t respond right away.
When she finally did, her voice was quiet.
“I know.”
Dani nodded, even though Manon couldn’t see it.
Then she left.
---
Outside, the air felt colder than it should have.
Dani shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, walking aimlessly down the street.
Her chest felt tight, like something was pressing down on it.
But at the same time…
It felt clearer.
She pulled out her phone, opening her messages.
That same dry conversation was still there.
Still boring.
Still empty.
Dani stared at it for a second.
Then deleted it.
Because she finally understood something.
It wasn’t about finding someone.
It wasn’t about filling space or chasing distractions.
It was about the fact that she had already found something real once.
And lost it.
And no amount of random conversations or half-hearted connections was going to replace that.
Not until she figured out why it ended in the first place.
Dani stopped walking, looking back down the street.
Manon’s apartment was out of sight now.
But it didn’t feel as far away as it had before.
Not really.
Dani exhaled slowly.
“Yeah,” she muttered to herself. “This is gonna hurt.”
And for once…
She didn’t try to run from it.
---
Dani made it about half a block before the emotions caught up to her.
At first it was just fast walking. Then it was aggressive walking. Then it was full-on kicking a loose bit of pavement like it had personally wronged her.
“Stupid,” she muttered, kicking it again. “Actually stupid. Why did I even go there?”
The pavement, unsurprisingly, did not answer.
She dragged a hand down her face, pacing in a tight circle now, her thoughts looping in the most annoying way possible.
Because like—okay.
That did not go how she planned.
At all.
She showed up thinking she’d be in control, thinking she’d say something chaotic, maybe get under Manon’s skin a little, remind her what she was missing.
Instead, she ended up basically confessing emotional damage like she was in a therapy session she didn’t sign up for.
“Embarrassing,” Dani groaned, kicking a random plastic bottle this time. “Deeply embarrassing. I need to leave the country.”
“Hey—yo. Are you good?”
Dani froze mid-kick.
She turned her head slowly.
There was a girl standing a few feet away, holding a tote bag and looking at her with a mix of concern and mild amusement.
Dani blinked.
“…Define good.”
The girl snorted a little, stepping closer.
“I mean, you’ve been fighting that bottle like it owes you money, so I’m gonna guess… not great?”
Dani let out a sharp exhale, running a hand through her hair.
“Yeah. Not great is actually… accurate.”
The girl shifted her bag on her shoulder.
“Breakup?” she guessed.
Dani let out a hollow laugh.
“Worse.”
“Damn.”
There was a pause.
And then—because Dani had clearly lost all sense of normal social boundaries tonight—she just… went for it.
“I just went to my ex’s apartment,” she said.
The girl’s eyebrows shot up.
“Okay—bold start.”
“And I basically told her I still have feelings for her,” Dani continued, words spilling out faster now. “Which was not the plan. Like at all. I was supposed to be chill. Detached. Mysterious.”
“Mysterious,” the girl repeated, nodding like she was taking notes.
“Yes,” Dani said, pointing at her. “Exactly. Instead, I trauma-dumped and now I look insane.”
The girl bit back a smile.
“Do you look insane,” she said carefully, “or did you just say something real?”
Dani stared at her.
“…Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That,” Dani said, gesturing vaguely. “That emotionally intelligent thing. I’m spiraling, don’t fix it.”
The girl laughed, properly this time.
“Alright, fair. Continue your spiral.”
Dani sighed dramatically, leaning against a lamppost like she was in a music video.
“She basically told me I only showed up because I felt something in the moment,” Dani said. “Which—okay, rude—but also annoyingly accurate.”
“Mhm.”
“And then she hit me with the ‘what happens when the feeling goes away’ thing,” Dani continued, making air quotes. “Like… girl, I don’t know, why are you asking me philosophical questions at midnight?”
The girl nodded again, fully invested now.
“That’s evil timing, I can’t lie.”
“Right?” Dani said. “Like just reject me or don’t, don’t make me think about my life choices.”
They both laughed, and for a second, the tension in Dani’s chest loosened just a little.
The girl tilted her head.
“So what happened after that?”
Dani’s smile faded slightly.
“I left.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
There was a brief silence, softer this time.
Then the girl stuck out her hand.
“I’m Lara, by the way.”
Dani looked at it, then shook it.
“Dani.”
“Nice to meet you, Dani-who-just-confessed-to-her-ex-at-midnight.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Too late, it’s your brand now.”
Dani rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile there.
Lara glanced back toward the building they were standing near.
“You said you went to your ex’s apartment,” she said. “Which one?”
Dani pointed without thinking.
“That one. Third floor.”
Lara followed her finger.
Then blinked.
“…Wait.”
Dani frowned.
“What?”
Lara looked back at her, a slow grin spreading across her face.
“No way.”
“What?”
“I literally live in that building.”
Dani stared at her.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not,” Lara said, laughing. “Third floor too.”
Dani squinted.
“Do you know—”
“Manon?” Lara cut in.
Dani’s jaw dropped.
“Yeah??”
Lara let out a surprised laugh.
“Yeah, I know her. Not like besties, but we’ve talked. She’s chill.”
Dani blinked rapidly, processing.
“This is insane.”
“Actually insane,” Lara agreed. “What are the odds?”
Dani dragged both hands down her face.
“Of course you know her. Of course. This night just keeps getting worse.”
“Or better,” Lara said lightly.
Dani looked at her.
There was a beat.
And then something shifted.
Because suddenly, an idea formed in Dani’s brain.
A terrible idea.
A very on-brand idea.
Dani straightened slightly, eyeing Lara in a new way.
Lara noticed immediately.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
Dani tilted her head.
“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way—”
“Already concerned.”
“But like… you’re attractive.”
Lara blinked.
“…Thank you?”
“And you’re here,” Dani continued, gesturing vaguely. “And I’m here. And my night is already a disaster, so like—what’s one more bad decision?”
Lara crossed her arms, clearly amused now.
“Dani.”
“Lara.”
“Where is this going?”
Dani took a breath.
Then said it, fully committing.
“Are you open to hooking up with a stranger?”
There was a pause.
A long one.
Lara stared at her.
Dani held her gaze, completely serious.
“…You’re insane,” Lara said finally.
“Probably.”
“And you just met me.”
“Correct.”
“And I literally just listened to you emotionally spiral about your ex.”
“Also correct.”
Lara shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips.
“This is actually wild.”
Dani shrugged.
“I’m having a night.”
“Clearly.”
Another pause.
Then Lara tilted her head, studying her.
“…Are you trying to get over her or prove something?”
Dani hesitated.
For like… half a second.
“Both,” she said honestly.
Lara huffed a quiet laugh.
“At least you’re self-aware.”
“So?” Dani pressed. “Is that a yes or…?”
Lara looked at her for a moment longer.
Then she shrugged.
“…You know what? Sure.”
Dani blinked.
“Wait, actually?”
“Yeah,” Lara said. “Why not? It’s chaotic, it’s impulsive, it’s a little unhinged. I respect it.”
Dani stared at her.
Then broke into a grin.
“Oh my god.”
“Don’t make me regret this already,” Lara warned, laughing.
“No, no,” Dani said quickly. “You won’t. I’m fun, I promise.”
“Mhm. We’ll see.”
And just like that, Dani felt something in her chest shift again.
Not fixed.
Definitely not healed.
But distracted.
Which was good enough for now.
---
Some time later, Dani was back outside the same building.
Again.
Which… yeah. Full circle.
She adjusted her jacket, checking her reflection in her phone camera quickly.
Hair still good. Makeup slightly smudged but in a hot way. Vibe? Recovered.
“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “You’re fine. You’re thriving. You’re actually winning.”
Was that true?
Debatable.
But confidence was about commitment, not accuracy.
She turned back toward the building, a familiar energy buzzing under her skin again—but different this time.
Lighter.
Petty.
Very, very petty.
Because now?
Now she had a point to prove.
Dani walked up to the door, buzzing the same apartment as before.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
Click.
The door opened again.
Dani smirked slightly.
“Round two,” she murmured, stepping inside.
---
When Manon opened the door this time, she looked more guarded.
Like she wasn’t expecting anything good.
Which—fair.
Her eyes landed on Dani, and her expression immediately shifted to confusion.
“…You forgot something?”
Dani leaned casually against the doorframe.
“Nope.”
Manon frowned slightly.
“Then why are you—”
“I just wanted to let you know,” Dani interrupted, voice light, almost teasing, “that I found someone.”
There was a pause.
Manon blinked.
“…What?”
Dani shrugged, like it was no big deal.
“Yeah. Literally right outside.”
Manon stared at her.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not,” Dani said. “Her name’s Lara. She lives in your building, by the way.”
That landed.
Manon’s expression changed, something unreadable flashing across her face.
“…You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
Silence stretched between them.
Dani felt her heart pounding, but she kept her expression steady.
Cool. Unbothered. In control.
Or at least pretending to be.
Manon looked at her for a long moment.
Then she let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh.
“Wow.”
Dani tilted her head.
“What?”
“That was fast,” Manon said.
Dani shrugged again.
“I told you. I just needed a distraction.”
And there it was.
The shift.
Subtle.
But real.
Manon’s jaw tightened slightly.
“Right,” she said. “Of course.”
Dani pushed off the doorframe, stepping a little closer.
“Just thought you should know,” she added.
“Why?”
Dani paused.
Because that was a good question.
Why did she come back?
Why did she need Manon to know?
The answer sat heavy in her chest.
But she didn’t say it.
Instead, she smirked slightly.
“Closure,” she said.
Manon held her gaze.
For a second, it looked like she might call her out.
Like she might say something real.
Instead, she just nodded.
“Got it.”
Another silence.
Thick.
Complicated.
Dani shifted her weight, suddenly feeling the cracks in her own performance.
Because this?
This didn’t feel as good as she thought it would.
Not really.
Manon stepped back slightly, her expression closing off again.
“Well,” she said. “Have fun, I guess.”
Dani forced a smile.
“Yeah.”
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them said anything else.
And somehow, this felt worse than before.
Dani swallowed.
Then stepped back.
“Goodnight, Manon.”
Manon nodded once.
“Night.”
The door closed.
And just like that, Dani was alone again.
---
Standing in the hallway, Dani exhaled slowly.
The adrenaline faded.
The petty satisfaction?
Gone.
And in its place…
That same heavy feeling.
She leaned her head back against the wall.
“…Yeah,” she muttered. “That did not fix anything.”
From down the hall, a door creaked open.
Lara peeked out, raising an eyebrow.
“Well?” she called quietly. “Did you win?”
Dani looked at her.
Paused.
Then shook her head, a small, tired smile forming.
“…Not even a little.”
Lara studied her for a second.
Then nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “I figured.”
Dani pushed off the wall, walking toward her.
“Still down to hang out?” Lara asked.
Dani hesitated.
Then shrugged.
“…Yeah.”
Because maybe this wasn’t about winning.
Maybe it was just about not being alone for a little while.
And for now?
That was enough.
---
The first time Dani stayed over, it wasn’t supposed to be a “thing.”
That was the rule.
There were rules now. Dani had decided that approximately five minutes after stepping into Lara’s apartment and realizing two things:
1. Lara was actually funny
2. Lara did not ask emotionally devastating questions at random
Which already put her at a solid advantage over… certain people.
So yeah.
Rules.
No feelings. No deep talks after midnight. No “what are we” conversations. No staying over too often.
Just vibes.
Casual.
Easy.
Dani repeated those rules to herself like a mantra the next morning as she stood in Lara’s kitchen, wearing one of Lara’s hoodies and sipping orange juice straight from the carton.
“This is casual,” she said out loud.
Lara, sitting on the counter scrolling through her phone, looked up.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Myself.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“Always,” Dani said, taking another sip.
Lara snorted.
“Fair.”
There was a pause.
Then Lara tilted her head slightly, watching her.
“You good?”
Dani nodded immediately.
“Yeah. Obviously.”
“Mhm.”
“I’m chilling,” Dani added, leaning against the counter like she was in a commercial.
“You’re literally wearing my clothes and drinking my juice.”
“And?”
“And you’ve been staring into space for like thirty seconds.”
Dani paused.
“…I’m reflecting.”
“On what?”
Dani pointed vaguely.
“Life.”
Lara laughed.
“Okay, philosopher. Relax.”
Dani rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile there.
Because here’s the thing.
Being around Lara was… easy.
Not in a boring way. Not in a “nothing matters” way.
Just… easy.
There was no history. No tension loaded with a million unsaid things. No emotional landmines waiting to explode if Dani said the wrong thing.
With Lara, everything was exactly what it looked like.
And Dani didn’t realize how much she needed that until she had it.
---
The second time Dani came over, it was intentional.
Which technically broke one of the rules.
But Dani chose to ignore that.
“It doesn’t count,” she said to herself while walking up the stairs. “Because it’s still casual. I’m just… revisiting the casual.”
That made sense. Kind of.
She knocked on Lara’s door.
It opened almost immediately.
“Back again?” Lara said, raising an eyebrow.
Dani shrugged, walking past her like she lived there.
“Miss me?”
Lara closed the door behind her.
“Be serious. It’s been like… twelve hours.”
“And?”
“And yes,” Lara said. “Obviously.”
Dani grinned.
“Good answer.”
---
By the end of the week, Dani had been there five times.
Which—
Okay.
If you looked at it objectively, that was maybe not very “casual behavior.”
But Dani wasn’t looking at it objectively.
She was looking at it like this:
She was having fun.
That was it.
Nothing deeper.
Nothing complicated.
Just fun.
---
Manon noticed on day three.
It was hard not to.
Because Dani wasn’t exactly subtle.
She walked through the building like she owned it now, laughing too loudly, leaning too close to Lara, existing in a way that felt… intentional.
Performative, almost.
The first time Manon saw them together, she froze halfway down the hallway.
Dani didn’t.
Of course she didn’t.
She just smiled.
Not even a big smile. Not smug exactly.
Just… aware.
“Hey,” Dani said casually, like they hadn’t had that whole conversation a few nights ago.
Manon nodded once.
“Hey.”
Lara looked between them.
“Oh—yeah,” she said. “You guys know each other.”
“Something like that,” Dani said.
Manon’s jaw tightened slightly.
“Yeah.”
There was a pause.
Then Dani turned back to Lara like nothing had happened.
“Are we still doing food?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Lara said. “You wanted noodles, right?”
“Obviously.”
They started walking.
Just like that.
Like Manon wasn’t standing right there.
Like nothing mattered.
Manon stayed in the hallway for a second longer than necessary.
Then turned and walked the other way.
---
It didn’t stop.
That was the worst part.
It wasn’t just a one-time thing.
Dani kept showing up.
Every day, almost.
Sometimes in the morning, hair messy, wearing Lara’s clothes.
Sometimes late at night, laughing about something that Manon couldn’t hear but somehow still felt.
Sometimes quiet.
Those were the moments that hit the hardest.
When Dani wasn’t performing.
When she was just… there.
Comfortable.
Manon tried not to look.
Tried not to notice.
Failed.
---
One afternoon, Manon ran into Lara alone.
Which felt like a setup from the universe, honestly.
Lara was sitting on the steps outside the building, scrolling through her phone, headphones around her neck.
Manon hesitated for a second.
She could’ve walked past.
Probably should’ve.
Instead, she stopped.
“Hey.”
Lara looked up.
“Oh—hey.”
There was a brief pause.
Then Lara gave a small, knowing smile.
“You’re Manon.”
Manon nodded.
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
Slightly awkward.
Not terrible.
Just… loaded.
Lara tapped her phone against her knee.
“So,” she said. “You good?”
Manon blinked.
“…What?”
“You just look like you have something to say,” Lara clarified. “And I feel like if you don’t say it, it’s gonna turn into weird hallway tension, and I live here, so…”
Manon huffed a quiet laugh.
“That’s fair.”
She shifted her weight slightly.
Then, before she could overthink it—
“How do you know Dani?”
Lara didn’t even hesitate.
“She trauma-dumped on me outside,” she said. “Then asked if I wanted to hook up.”
Manon stared at her.
“…Of course she did.”
Lara smiled.
“It was kind of iconic, I can’t lie.”
Manon shook her head slightly, a faint, involuntary smile tugging at her lips.
“Yeah. That sounds like her.”
There was a beat.
Then Manon crossed her arms.
“So what is this?” she asked.
Lara tilted her head.
“What do you mean?”
“You and her,” Manon said. “What is it?”
Lara considered that for a second.
Then shrugged.
“Nothing serious.”
Manon’s expression didn’t change.
“Define ‘nothing serious.’”
“Friends with benefits,” Lara said simply. “No expectations. No drama.”
Manon let out a slow breath.
“Right.”
Lara studied her for a moment.
“You don’t like it.”
It wasn’t a question.
Manon looked away briefly.
“It’s not really my business.”
“Mhm.”
“It’s not,” Manon repeated.
Lara nodded slowly.
“But it still bothers you.”
Manon didn’t respond right away.
Because… yeah.
Obviously.
Seeing your ex every day with someone new?
In your building?
After everything?
Not exactly a fun experience.
“It’s just…” Manon started, then stopped.
Lara waited.
Manon sighed.
“She doesn’t do casual,” she said finally.
Lara raised an eyebrow.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Manon said immediately. “I know her.”
Lara smiled slightly.
“You knew her.”
That hit.
Manon’s jaw tightened.
“That’s not—”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Lara cut in gently. “I’m just saying… people change. Or they try to.”
Manon shook her head.
“This isn’t her changing. This is her avoiding.”
Lara didn’t argue.
Didn’t disagree either.
She just listened.
“She always does this,” Manon continued. “She feels something too big, and instead of dealing with it, she… distracts herself.”
Lara glanced down at her phone, then back up.
“And you think that’s what this is?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
Then Lara leaned back slightly, resting her hands behind her.
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe.”
Manon frowned.
“Maybe?”
“Or maybe she just needed something easy for a minute,” Lara said. “And I happened to be there.”
Manon studied her.
“You don’t seem worried.”
“About what?”
“Getting hurt.”
Lara laughed softly.
“I’m not dating her.”
“That doesn’t mean you won’t get hurt.”
“True,” Lara said. “But I’m not going into it expecting anything.”
Manon shook her head slightly.
“That’s how it starts.”
Lara smiled, but there was something a little more thoughtful behind it now.
“Did you expect something?” she asked.
Manon froze.
Because… yeah.
She had.
That was the problem.
She expected everything.
And when it didn’t happen—
Well.
Here they were.
Manon looked away again.
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Lara didn’t push further.
Instead, she changed the angle slightly.
“She talks about you, you know.”
Manon blinked.
“…What?”
“Not in a weird way,” Lara said quickly. “Just… you come up.”
Manon’s chest tightened.
“What does she say?”
Lara hesitated.
Not because she didn’t know.
But because she was deciding how much to say.
Finally, she shrugged.
“That you were real,” she said. “That nothing else really compares.”
Manon’s breath caught slightly.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Maybe,” Lara said. “Maybe not.”
There was a long silence after that.
The kind that sits heavy but not uncomfortable.
Just… honest.
Manon exhaled slowly.
“She’s gonna leave,” she said quietly. “Eventually.”
Lara nodded.
“Probably.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Lara thought about it.
Then smiled, a little softer this time.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think I am.”
Manon looked at her.
“Why?”
Lara shrugged.
“Because I knew what this was from the start,” she said. “And because… I don’t think she’s actually mine to lose.”
That landed deeper than anything else.
Manon didn’t respond.
Because she understood exactly what that meant.
---
That night, when Dani showed up again, something felt different.
Not wrong.
Just… noticeable.
Lara opened the door, stepping aside to let her in.
“You were talking to Manon today,” Dani said immediately.
Lara raised an eyebrow.
“News travels fast.”
“I saw you,” Dani said. “From the window.”
“Creepy.”
“Answer the question.”
Lara closed the door behind her.
“Yeah,” she said. “We talked.”
Dani crossed her arms.
“About what?”
Lara walked past her, casual as ever.
“You.”
Dani followed.
“And?”
Lara turned, leaning against the counter.
“And she knows you,” she said simply.
Dani scoffed.
“Obviously.”
“No,” Lara said. “Like… she really knows you.”
Dani’s expression flickered, just for a second.
“Okay,” she said. “And what did you tell her?”
“The truth.”
“Which is?”
Lara shrugged.
“That this is what it is.”
Dani held her gaze.
“And what is that?”
Lara smiled slightly.
“You tell me.”
There was a beat.
Dani looked away first.
“Nothing serious,” she said.
Lara nodded.
“Yeah.”
But the way she said it—
It didn’t feel as simple as it had before.
And Dani knew it.
She just didn’t say anything.
Because if she did—
This would stop being easy.
And she wasn’t ready for that yet.
--
Things got weird on a Thursday.
Not immediately.
At first, it was just… slightly off.
Dani noticed it the second she walked into Lara’s apartment.
Lara was sitting on the couch, scrolling on her phone like usual—but Manon was there too.
Which—
Okay.
That had happened before. Brief hallway interactions, passing conversations, the occasional shared space moment.
But this?
This was different.
They were sitting close.
Not touching.
But close enough that Dani clocked it instantly.
Her steps slowed.
“…Oh,” she said.
Both of them looked up.
Lara smiled first.
“Hey.”
Manon followed a second later, more hesitant.
“Hey.”
Dani stood there for a beat, taking it in.
The energy.
The way Lara looked completely relaxed.
The way Manon didn’t quite.
The way the space between them felt… charged.
“Did I miss something?” Dani asked, setting her bag down slowly.
Lara shrugged.
“Not really. We were just talking.”
Dani raised an eyebrow.
“About?”
Manon huffed softly.
“You, obviously.”
“Obsessed,” Dani said automatically.
But it didn’t land the same.
Because something in her chest tightened just a little.
Lara patted the spot next to her.
“Come sit.”
Dani hesitated.
Which was new.
Dani didn’t hesitate.
Ever.
But for a split second, she felt like she was walking into something she didn’t fully understand.
Still—
She sat.
On Lara’s other side.
Which meant Manon was right there.
Closer than she’d been since that night.
Dani felt it immediately.
The familiarity.
The tension.
The history sitting between them like a fourth presence.
“So,” Dani said, forcing lightness into her voice. “What’s the topic of discussion? My tragic love life? My questionable decisions? My undeniable charm?”
“All of the above,” Lara said.
Manon didn’t laugh.
She was watching Dani.
Not subtly.
Not casually.
Just… watching.
And Dani felt it.
Of course she did.
She always felt it when it came to Manon.
“You’ve been here a lot,” Manon said finally.
Dani leaned back slightly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Dani shrugged.
“Lara’s cool.”
Lara smiled at that.
“Thanks.”
Manon’s gaze flickered briefly to Lara, then back to Dani.
“Is that all?”
Dani tilted her head.
“What else would it be?”
Manon didn’t answer right away.
And that silence?
It said everything.
Lara glanced between them.
Then—very intentionally—shifted slightly, her knee brushing against Manon’s.
It was small.
Barely anything.
But it changed the air instantly.
Dani noticed.
Manon definitely noticed.
Lara didn’t move away.
Instead, she looked at Dani.
Direct.
Curious.
“Can I ask you something?” Lara said.
Dani narrowed her eyes slightly.
“That depends. Is it gonna ruin my vibe?”
“Maybe.”
“Go ahead.”
Lara leaned back a little, still close to Manon.
“How do you feel about… this?” she asked, gesturing vaguely between the three of them.
Dani blinked.
“…Define ‘this.’”
Lara smiled slightly.
“This,” she repeated. “Us. The situation.”
Dani let out a short laugh.
“Oh, you mean my chaotic life choices?”
“Sure.”
Dani shrugged.
“I mean… it’s not that deep. We’re just hanging out.”
Manon’s expression shifted at that.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
Lara caught it.
Of course she did.
“And if it was deeper?” Lara asked.
Dani frowned slightly.
“What do you mean?”
Lara didn’t answer right away.
Instead, she turned her head slightly—
Toward Manon.
And for a second, everything slowed down.
Because it was obvious.
The way they looked at each other.
The hesitation.
The awareness.
Like they were both standing at the edge of something and trying to decide if they should jump.
Dani’s breath caught slightly.
“…Wait,” she said.
Neither of them looked away.
“Lara,” Dani said, slower now.
“Yeah?”
“Are you—”
Lara glanced back at her.
Then, very casually—
“Is this okay?” she asked.
Dani blinked.
“…Is what okay?”
Lara didn’t answer with words.
She just looked at Manon again.
And this time—
Manon didn’t hesitate as long.
It wasn’t immediate.
It wasn’t impulsive.
It was slow.
Careful.
Like she was giving Dani time to react.
To stop it.
To say something.
Dani didn’t.
Because here’s the thing.
She expected to feel something sharp.
Jealousy.
Possessiveness.
Something.
Instead—
She felt… curious.
A little shocked.
A little thrown.
But not angry.
Not upset.
Just—
Interested.
“…Oh,” Dani said quietly.
Lara’s eyes flicked back to her one more time.
Checking.
Dani met her gaze.
And then—
She shrugged.
“Do what you want,” she said.
And that was all it took.
---
It wasn’t dramatic.
No big moment.
No sudden shift.
Just—
Lara leaning in.
Manon meeting her halfway.
Slow.
Tentative.
Like they were both testing something fragile.
Dani watched.
She couldn’t not.
Because this was—
Unexpected.
Manon, who had been so closed off, so careful, now sitting here letting herself exist in this moment.
Lara, who never seemed phased by anything, suddenly softer.
It wasn’t intense.
Not at first.
Just… a beginning.
And somehow, that made it more real.
Dani exhaled slowly, leaning back into the couch.
“…Okay,” she muttered to herself.
Because yeah.
This was happening.
And weirdly?
She didn’t hate it.
---
Later, things shifted again.
Not all at once.
Just… gradually.
More closeness.
More shared space.
More moments where the lines blurred in ways none of them had planned.
At some point, Dani stopped feeling like an outsider watching something unfold.
At some point, she was part of it.
---
It was quieter when it happened.
No tension this time.
No confusion.
Just—
Dani and Manon.
Standing in the kitchen while Lara was in the other room.
Not talking.
Just… there.
Manon leaned against the counter, arms crossed.
Dani stood across from her, messing with the edge of a cup.
“This is weird,” Dani said finally.
Manon huffed softly.
“Yeah.”
“But not bad weird,” Dani added quickly.
Manon looked at her.
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
Dani glanced toward the living room, then back at Manon.
“You okay?” she asked.
Manon tilted her head slightly.
“Are you?”
Dani considered that.
Then nodded.
“Yeah.”
And for once—
She meant it.
Manon studied her for a moment.
Then stepped a little closer.
Not much.
Just enough.
“You’re different,” she said quietly.
Dani frowned.
“Good different or bad different?”
Manon didn’t answer immediately.
“Still figuring that out.”
Dani let out a small laugh.
“Fair.”
Another pause.
But this one felt…
Softer.
Less heavy.
Like the weight between them had shifted into something else.
Something still complicated.
But not as painful.
“I missed you,” Dani said suddenly.
Manon’s expression flickered.
“I know.”
Dani swallowed.
“I meant it.”
“I know.”
And this time—
When Dani stepped closer—
Manon didn’t step back.
There was no rush.
No urgency.
Just that same careful, tentative energy from before.
Like they were both aware of how easily this could break.
But willing to try anyway.
And when they kissed—
It wasn’t about proving anything.
Not like before.
Not like that night.
It was quiet.
Real.
Familiar in a way that didn’t hurt as much anymore.
---
Somewhere in the apartment, Lara smiled to herself.
Because she already knew.
This wasn’t casual anymore.
Not really.
Not for any of them.
---
It didn’t get less complicated.
If anything, it got more.
More conversations.
More figuring things out in real time.
More moments of “what are we doing” followed by “I don’t know, but I don’t hate it.”
But somehow—
It worked.
Not perfectly.
Not easily.
But honestly.
And for once—
That was enough.
---
It didn’t become a “thing” overnight.
There was no group chat named something cringe like “The Throuple.” No sit-down, perfectly communicated agreement where everyone used emotionally intelligent language and nodded like they were in a podcast.
It was messier than that.
Of course it was.
---
At first, it was just… more.
More time together.
More shared space.
More moments where it stopped being “Dani and Lara” or “Dani and Manon” and started being all three of them in the same room, orbiting each other in this weird, unspoken way.
Movie nights that no one actually paid attention to.
Food runs that turned into long walks.
Late nights where conversations drifted from stupid jokes to something deeper before anyone realized it.
And somehow—
No one pulled away.
---
Dani noticed the shift before anyone said anything.
Which was annoying.
Because Dani liked clarity.
She liked knowing what she was doing, what the situation was, where she stood.
And this?
This was the opposite of clear.
One night, she was lying on Lara’s couch, scrolling on her phone while Lara was half-asleep next to her, head resting against Dani’s shoulder.
Manon was across the room, sitting on the floor, back against the couch, pretending to watch something on the TV.
Dani glanced down at Lara.
Then over at Manon.
Then back at her phone.
“…Okay,” she said suddenly.
Manon looked over.
“What?”
Dani sat up slightly, careful not to wake Lara.
“What are we doing?”
Manon blinked.
“…Right now?”
“No,” Dani said. “Like—this. Us. The situation.”
Manon hesitated.
Because yeah.
That question had been sitting there for a while.
Neither of them had wanted to say it first.
“I don’t know,” Manon admitted.
Dani frowned.
“You don’t know?”
“No,” Manon said. “Do you?”
Dani opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
Because—
No.
Not really.
She looked down at Lara again, who shifted slightly but didn’t wake up.
“…I didn’t plan this,” Dani said.
“Obviously,” Manon said, a hint of a smile slipping through.
Dani rolled her eyes.
“Be serious.”
“I am,” Manon said. “You never plan anything.”
“Not true.”
“You literally showed up at my apartment at midnight with no plan.”
“…Okay, that one doesn’t count.”
Manon huffed a quiet laugh.
The tension eased, just a little.
But the question was still there.
“What do you want?” Manon asked.
Dani stilled.
Because that—
That was dangerous.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
Manon nodded slowly.
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
Then Dani glanced at her.
“What do you want?”
Manon didn’t answer right away.
She looked at Lara.
Then back at Dani.
“…I want this to not fall apart,” she said.
That hit harder than Dani expected.
“Same,” she admitted quietly.
---
Lara noticed too.
Of course she did.
She noticed everything.
The way Dani started thinking more before she spoke.
The way Manon lingered longer instead of leaving early.
The way the energy between all three of them shifted from chaotic to… something steadier.
Not stable.
But not random either.
Intentional, maybe.
One night, Lara brought it up.
They were all in the kitchen, half-eating takeout, half-arguing about something stupid.
“I have a question,” Lara said suddenly.
Dani pointed at her with a fry.
“Is it gonna stress me out?”
“Probably.”
“Ask it anyway.”
Lara leaned back against the counter, looking between them.
“Are we pretending this is casual?”
Silence.
Immediate.
Dani froze mid-bite.
Manon looked down at her food.
“…Define pretending,” Dani said carefully.
Lara raised an eyebrow.
“Dani.”
“I’m just asking for clarification.”
Manon let out a small breath.
“We’re not casual,” she said.
Dani looked at her.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Then what are we?”
Lara shrugged.
“Something.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s honest.”
Dani ran a hand through her hair.
“This is exactly why I don’t like labels,” she said. “Because then you have to define things, and defining things leads to expectations, and expectations lead to—”
“Dani,” Lara interrupted gently.
Dani stopped.
Lara’s expression softened slightly.
“No one’s asking you to have it all figured out,” she said. “We’re just… acknowledging that this is more than nothing.”
Dani exhaled slowly.
Manon watched her carefully.
“What scares you about it?” Manon asked.
Dani laughed, but it came out a little too sharp.
“Everything?”
“Be serious.”
“I am serious,” Dani said. “This is not a normal situation.”
“No one said it was.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Yes.”
“It could go very wrong.”
“Also yes.”
Dani gestured between them.
“Exactly!”
Lara smiled slightly.
“And it could also go right.”
That—
Dani didn’t have a response for that.
Because she hadn’t been thinking about that part.
Not really.
---
The first real moment of tension happened a few days later.
And it was stupid.
Of course it was.
It always is.
Dani walked into the apartment and found Lara and Manon sitting close again.
Talking quietly.
Laughing about something Dani wasn’t part of.
And for the first time—
Dani felt it.
That sharp, uncomfortable twist in her chest.
“Oh,” she said.
They both looked up.
“Hey,” Lara said.
Manon nodded.
“Hey.”
Dani forced a smile.
“Didn’t know you guys had plans.”
“We didn’t,” Lara said. “You just weren’t here yet.”
“Right.”
Dani dropped her bag, moving into the room.
But something felt off.
Not wrong.
Just… unfamiliar.
Because she wasn’t used to being the one outside of the moment.
And she didn’t like it.
Not even a little.
---
It came out later.
Of course it did.
Dani didn’t bottle things up well.
“You guys seem close,” she said, trying to sound casual.
They were sitting on the couch again.
Lara glanced at her.
“We are.”
Dani nodded.
“Yeah. I can tell.”
Manon’s expression shifted.
“Dani—”
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Dani said quickly. “It’s just… noticeable.”
Lara studied her.
“Are you jealous?”
Dani scoffed.
“No.”
Lara didn’t look convinced.
Manon didn’t either.
“…Okay, maybe a little,” Dani admitted.
There it was.
Out in the open.
And surprisingly—
The world didn’t end.
Lara leaned back slightly.
“That’s fair.”
Dani blinked.
“…That’s it?”
“What did you want me to say?” Lara asked. “We’re all figuring this out.”
Manon nodded.
“Yeah.”
Dani frowned.
“I thought I was supposed to be the chaotic one.”
“You still are,” Lara said. “You’re just… emotionally chaotic now too.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
Dani rolled her eyes, but she smiled a little.
Because weirdly?
This felt better.
Saying it out loud.
Not pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.
---
The next shift was quieter.
More intentional.
They started checking in.
Not in a formal way.
Just… small things.
“Are you okay with this?”
“Does that feel weird?”
“Do we need to talk about it?”
And slowly—
It stopped feeling like chaos.
It started feeling like something they were building.
Together.
---
One night, they ended up on the roof.
No real reason.
Just needed air.
The city stretched out around them, lights flickering in the distance.
Dani sat on the edge, legs dangling.
Lara leaned against the wall.
Manon stood between them, hands in her pockets.
“This is insane,” Dani said.
“Yeah,” Lara agreed.
Manon huffed softly.
“You’ve said that like five times this week.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
There was a pause.
Then Dani looked at them.
Both of them.
“…I don’t hate it,” she admitted.
Lara smiled.
“Good.”
Manon’s expression softened.
“Me neither.”
Another pause.
But this one felt different.
Lighter.
Less uncertain.
Dani swung her legs slightly.
“So what do we call this?” she asked.
Lara shrugged.
“Do we need to call it anything?”
Manon considered that.
“…Maybe not.”
Dani nodded slowly.
“Yeah.”
Because maybe—
They didn’t need a perfect label.
Maybe they just needed to keep choosing it.
Each other.
Every day.
Even when it was messy.
Even when it was confusing.
Even when it scared them a little.
Dani glanced at Lara.
Then at Manon.
And for the first time since this whole thing started—
She didn’t feel like she was chasing something.
Or avoiding something.
Or proving something.
She just felt…
There.
Present.
Part of it.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
And this time—
It actually felt real.