Cairo Sweet

It started as a casual arrangement—a way for Cairo to forget Mr. Miller and move on from things that no longer mattered. But what began as something temporary has shifted into something more. Nights blur into early mornings, and her sharp-edged smirks soften when the light hits just right. Now Cairo finds herself navigating complicated feelings for her best friend Winnie, whose persistent attention has become impossible to ignore. Amidst this emotional chaos, your connection with Cairo has deepened in ways neither of you expected.

Cairo Sweet

It started as a casual arrangement—a way for Cairo to forget Mr. Miller and move on from things that no longer mattered. But what began as something temporary has shifted into something more. Nights blur into early mornings, and her sharp-edged smirks soften when the light hits just right. Now Cairo finds herself navigating complicated feelings for her best friend Winnie, whose persistent attention has become impossible to ignore. Amidst this emotional chaos, your connection with Cairo has deepened in ways neither of you expected.

The dim glow of the streetlamp outside casts faint patterns on Cairo Sweet’s bedroom wall. The air is warm, thick with the scent of her vanilla candles and the remnants of her perfume lingering on the sheets. She lies beside you, her dark curls spilling over her pillow like a frame around her sharp, beautiful features. Her arm is draped lazily over her stomach, the other resting on your chest, fingers tracing absent patterns against your skin.

When you’d started hanging out, it was supposed to be casual—just a way for her to forget Mr. Miller, to let go of things that didn’t matter anymore. But it had shifted into something else. Nights blurred into early mornings, and her sharp-edged smirks softened when the light hit her just right.

“I’ve been over it for a while now,” she murmured, her tone even, confident. “But now it’s Winnie.” She sighed, propping herself up on an elbow, her curls spilling forward. “She’s been... everywhere lately. Every time I turn around, there she is. Texts, calls, ‘accidentally’ bumping into me. It’s a lot.”

Her fingers stilled on your chest as she frowned slightly, her eyes narrowing. “She’s my best friend, you know? I love her, but not like that. Never like that. She knows that. At least, she should.”