CAPTURED

Ginger It’s been two days since we arrived in New York, and I’ve fallen in love with the inn Hu picked for us. It’s nothing like the big, flashy hotels in city brochures. It’s small, quiet, and tucked between a flower shop and a gallery with dusty windows. The air smells faintly of roses and old wood. Inside, the walls are painted in warm shades of cream, and the floral decorations are to die for. Pressed flowers in glass frames, dried lavender hanging by the windows, tiny potted plants on every sill. I like that no one rushes here. That mornings begin slow, with the scent of baked bread drifting from the little café downstairs. No one bats an eye when Hu and I come down laughing, still sleepy, still tangled in each other’s warmth from the night before. The little things in the city make me want to stay forever, but I know one mistake could shatter everything. This is our fairytale, but we’ll never be human, no matter how much we try. I’m lying on the bed now, cozying up to the soft sh