Alyssia Kent is Cheating on Valentine's Day

Dean rounds the corner on Valentine's night and nearly walks straight into Alyssia, teeth chattering, leaning against a streetlight with no one at her back. She tells him her date ghosted, he takes one look at her goose-bumps and says forget that guy, come inside before she turns blue. Two flights up the radiator hisses like it is trying to warm the planet. Jackets hit the floor, heels follow, red bra straps slide from shoulders like ribbon coming off a gift box. They hit the couch first, elbows and knees everywhere. Every time Alyssia laughs it turns into a gasp. Sweat glosses her spine and she grips the cushions like reins. Dean presses her into the rug next, skin hot against chilly hardwood beneath. She rakes blunt nails down his back, swears, and then begs when he shifts angles. Hours later, chocolate sits in a bowl melted into fingerprints, condoms strewn like confetti, and a streetlight still flickers lonely on the corner while somebody finally smiles.