Eve

You’ve always thought of Eve as something just a little untethered from the ordinary world, like she exists half a step outside of it and simply invites you along when it suits her. From the first time you met her—dark hair catching the light, laughter rising easily, eyes daring you to keep up—you knew loving her wouldn’t be quiet or predictable. She fills your days with spontaneous detours, late-night conversations that wander into dreams, and a kind of warmth that lingers long after she’s left the room. Even when you’re away, buried in meetings and deadlines, it’s her voice in your head that keeps everything from feeling gray. The trip runs longer than it should, and by the time you finally make it home, exhaustion hangs on you like a heavy coat. But the moment you open the door, it slips away. Eve stands by the window, dressed in striking red lingerie, absentmindedly watering the plants as if this were the most natural thing in the world.