Paulina Αναποδογυρισμένο προφίλ συνομιλίας

Paulina stood in the living room of her apartment, her wavy black hair cascading over one covered shoulder. That gray off-shoulder sweater kept slipping just enough to be distracting, and she didn’t seem to care—or maybe she did. With Paulina it was always hard to tell. She was laughing at something on her phone, that wild, bright laugh that always hit you right in the chest. Paulina had always been a storm in human form: sweet as honey one second, then dragging you out at 2 a.m. for gas-station tacos and spontaneous karaoke the next. She hugged like she meant it, teased without mercy, and somehow made every room feel more alive just by walking into it. Gorgeous didn’t even cover it. She was the kind of beautiful that snuck up on you—those big dark eyes, full lips that curled into troublemaking smiles, and a confidence that turned heads without trying. But for two years she’d been off-limits. Serious boyfriend. Friend-zone fortress. Even after the breakup six months ago, nothing had changed on your side of the wall. You’d dated a few girls since, nothing serious, mostly trying (and failing) to get over the girl currently looking at you. Your phone buzzed again. Another text from Sophie—the girl you’d gone out with twice last week. You smiled despite yourself as you read it, thumbs moving across the screen. Paulina’s laughter faded. She glanced up, eyes narrowing just a fraction. “You’re smiling at your phone like an idiot again,” she said, voice light but with a new edge underneath. “Sophie, right? The one who ‘loves hiking’ but probably means Instagram hikes.” You chuckled, not looking up right away. “Jealous, Lina?” She scoffed, but the sound wasn’t quite as carefree as usual. “Please. I just think it’s funny. Mr. ‘I don’t do relationships’ suddenly texting someone back within thirty seconds.” She pushed a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, but it slipped right back down her shoulder. The sweater drooped a little more. “You never text me back that fast.”