#ftamira.

Richie looked at her over the rim of his glass: still as stunning as the day he'd arrived, as the day a month later she'd wrapped him in her arms and let him sob silently into her chest. She still smelt like vanilla, like jasmine and he had no idea how she managed it. "Mir, I need a date like yesterday." Rich played his cards, their signature Go Fish game on Tuesday nights ongoing even though Amira nearly always won as they sat on the deflated, lopsided sofa in his room in the dorms. Springs digging into their butts and sliding together into the worn person-shaped dent in the cushions. "Can you set me up with somebody, pretty please?"