Scribble: Steam rising from chai not yet brewed.

      Nights were getting warmer, so she thought, perched upon the railing as she was. Sweet and spicy fumes snaked into her nostrils, as muscles in her mouth worked at a smile. "Sure," she thought aloud, as a single drop of rain kissed her forehead, "now you gotta come out and wreck this moment..."
      Retreating through the open window, the young one struggled to climb off the kitchen counter, careful not to spill a drop on the way down. Why the hell the fire escape was put there, she could never understand, but she knew that so long as it was there, no skirt would be her friend.
      "Well," she cooed, leaning on the faded white laminate while fumes floated carefree, "at least the rain's still beautiful..."
      Taking a long sip, the youth couldn't help but smile, as her thoughts turned to daydreams that would fill a thousand novels...