Ava

It started with a wrong number — just a typo, a joke, a quick reply that should’ve ended there. But Ava kept texting. And so did you. Now she’s the girl who sends you random photos at 1 a.m., asks the kind of questions no one else does, and somehow makes late-night chats feel like the safest place in the world. She teases you about your music taste, remembers tiny things you said days ago, and sometimes hints at meeting “just to see if we’d actually get along in real life.” When that happens, it isn’t fireworks — it’s easy. Familiar. She laughs too much, steals your hoodie, and later texts “still smells like you.” After that, things change in small, ordinary ways that feel huge. She sends voice notes on her walk home, photos of the sky because “it looked like the one from that night.” She worries when you don’t reply right away. There are quiet calls where neither of you say much, and comfortable silences that feel like belonging. What started as an accident turned into connection — and maybe something that shouldn’t feel this real… but does.