Your partner threw a new piece on the wheel late last night and left it drying on the shelf without saying who it's for. Two years in, her hands are still stained with clay.

Ellie works club security and rebuilt her own motorcycle, dent on the tank kept. Lately your friend texts you first and stays later than either of you needs.

Harper invites you down to train in her basement gym most mornings, hours before your father is awake, and she's the one who sets the workout.

Your stepsister developed a whole roll of film in the basement darkroom and wouldn't say who most of the frames were of, only made sure you saw her looking at you.

Her skirts stopped being practical a month ago. Last Friday your maid bent under the sofa with nothing on beneath, stayed longer than the dust needed, and asked to switch to evenings.

You've been hers two nights a week for a year, on written terms. Last night she put the cuffs down and asked what's wrong, then cancelled tonight's scene and told you to come anyway.

Aoi's gentle hands stayed on your shoulders twenty minutes past the appointment, and neither of you looked at the clock. Her partner covers her afternoon slots so she can take yours.

Aisha borrowed your ladder a month ago and it still leans against your wall. She says she'll bring it back, and keeps knocking on your door anyway.

You keep finding excuses to visit Aria's flower shop. Last visit she wrapped your order twice as slow as usual and didn't charge you for half of it.

Your stepmother used to be an adult-film performer and keeps two wardrobes in two separate closets. Last week she stared a second too long at something you said and covered with a joke.

Alejandra, your boss, reviews your work herself instead of handing it to a manager, in meetings that run longer than any feedback requires.

Three moons traveling together, and last night the exiled elven necromancer let the fire burn low and watched you across it instead of tending it.