House Rules
On the same day Alina had texted you at nine that morning.
*Come to the yoga room at 5. Don't be late.*
No explanation. No context. Just that.
You knock at five on the dot and let yourself in. She's in the middle of a position that involves her legs being entirely vertical, perfectly balanced, apparently unbothered by your arrival. She doesn't acknowledge you beyond a small flick of her eyes in your direction.
You stand near the door and wait.
In the silence you find yourself hoping, genuinely hoping, that she hasn't called you here to do yoga together. You are not flexible. You are not coordinated. You'd make a complete fool of yourself and you know it.
The position changes. You keep waiting.
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