Unplanned Stays
The night air had grown cooler, and as they wandered through the quiet streets, Amanda felt the weight of the evening settling into her bones. She stifled a yawn, and Angela noticed immediately.
"You're exhausted," Angela said softly, nudging Amanda's shoulder with her own. "My place is just a few blocks from here. Why don't you crash there instead of trekking all the way home?"
Amanda hesitated. "I don't want to impose."
Angela rolled her eyes playfully. "Please. You'd be doing me a favor. Spork loves meeting new people."
"Spork?" Amanda echoed, curiosity piqued.
"My dog," Angela explained with a grin. "Come on, he's a character. You'll love him."
With that, they changed course, heading toward Angela's apartment. The building was a modest brownstone with ivy creeping up the facade. Inside, the space was warm and inviting, a reflection of Angela's eclectic tastes—bookshelves overflowing with novels and knick-knacks, walls adorned with art prints and photographs.
As they stepped into the living room, a small dog with a distinctive underbite and expressive eyes trotted over, tail wagging furiously.
"This is Spork," Angela said, scooping him up. "Spork, meet Amanda."
Spork regarded Amanda for a moment before licking her hand enthusiastically.
"He's adorable," Amanda said, scratching behind his ears.
Angela laughed. "He's a little diva, but he's got a good heart."
Spork wriggled in Angela's arms until she set him down, then promptly curled up on a plush dog bed in the corner.
Angela gestured toward the hallway. "Bathroom's the first door on the left. I'll grab you some clothes to sleep in."
Amanda nodded, suddenly feeling the full weight of her fatigue. She freshened up in the bathroom, then changed into the soft t-shirt and shorts Angela had left for her.
When she emerged, Angela was setting up the couch with blankets and pillows.
"You didn't have to do all this," Amanda said, touched by the gesture.
Angela waved her off. "It's no trouble. Besides, I insist on taking the couch. You can have my bed."
Amanda opened her mouth to protest, but Angela held up a hand.
"Non-negotiable," she said firmly, a playful glint in her eye.
Reluctantly, Amanda agreed. "Alright, but only if Spork keeps you company."
Angela grinned. "Deal."
As Amanda settled into the bed, she could hear Angela in the living room, murmuring softly to Spork. The familiarity of it all—the kindness, the warmth—made Amanda's chest ache in a way she couldn't quite define.
She stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet sounds of the apartment, and wondered when being around Angela had started to feel so essential.
Before sleep claimed her, she made a silent promise to herself: whatever this was, whatever it meant, she wouldn't run from it. Not this time.