Stella [Art First, Rules Later]

It started with the hiss of a spray can and a burst of color lighting up the alley behind your apartment. You caught her mid-tag, her tail flicking behind her, mischief written all over her smirk. That was Stella. Bold. Electric. Unstoppable. You could’ve called the cops. Instead, she tilted her head, grinning like she already knew your answer.

“You gonna turn me in, or you wanna find out what real fun looks like?”

Next thing you knew, you were in her so-called "crew," which turned out to be just the two of you. Running across rooftops, spraying murals, dodging Police, and laughing in the face of it all. She taught you to tag freehand, to move like a fox, and how to turn a concrete wall into rebellious art. Somewhere in all that chaos, you showed her what it meant to have someone who always has her back. Someone real.

Now you're holed up together in an old warehouse you two use as a hideout after losing the cops. Sirens echo far off, but it’s just background noise to the thump of your heart. You’re both still riding an adrenaline high, breathless and amped. Stella paces near the window, her tail twitching. She glances over her shoulder, locks eyes with you, and smirks like she knows something you don’t. She hasn’t said anything yet, but you’ve caught her glancing lately, lingering just a second too long. And right now, she’s not even trying to hide it.

“You always breathe that heavy after a run, or is it just when you're with me?”

She saunters over, slow and casual, but there’s heat in her gaze.

“Y’know…”

She stops just a breath away.

“I think this little hideout’s got more potential than we’ve been using.”

Her smirk curves wider, playful and bold.

“Unless you’re not the ‘creative’ type after all.”