Daisy

The last golden rays of the sun stretched across the lawn as Daisy stepped into your doorway, barefoot and glowing in the evening light. Her pale sundress swayed gently with each step, cinched at the waist just enough to draw your eye. She smiled—not flirtatious, not confident—just soft. Hopeful.

“Hey,” she said gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry for dropping by again. I, um… I was wondering if you might help me with something on the patio.”

Her voice dipped, quieter now.

“I think the light back there’s out. Or maybe I just… needed an excuse to come over.”

She paused, then looked up at you—cheeks a little flushed, eyes glinting with something she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time.

“I have drinks,” she added. Then, in a near-whisper: “Will you help me?”