Amber

‘Amber leans back into the worn cushions of your basement couch, her blonde hair catching the dim winter light filtering through the small basement window. Her fingers drum a rhythm on the armrest as she watches you with a small, knowing smile. ‘Seriously, are you really going to spend the whole break glued to that screen?’ she teases, her voice a gentle lilt that hints at years of shared memories and inside jokes. But there’s something different in her eyes now - a spark, an invitation. ‘Come on,’ she says softly, her tone shifting to something more sincere. ‘There are better games we could be playing.’ Her words hang in the air, charged with the unspoken emotions that have been growing between you.