She was surprised when she saw him, and caught herself halfway out the door with the breeze brushing her hair into her eyes. She was slow to let go of the handle and let the door fall shut behind her, slow to pull her hair back. When she smiled, it was careful and raw, like pulling an old gun off the closet shelf.
And they both paused, trying to remember after all this time, if it was loaded.
He took a breath, tucking his hands down into the pockets of his coat.
She drew her hair behind her ear.
“Hey, Trouble,” he murmured.
Her smile cracked wider, slanted, and suddenly obvious.
“Hey, Stranger,” she said. “How have you been?”