Replying...
Intro. The phone screen lights up your dark room at 2:17 a.m., casting a cold blue glow across the tangled sheets and the half-empty bottle on the nightstand. You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours, thumb hovering, knowing you shouldn’t. Finally you type the weakest “hey” known to man and hit send. Thirty seconds later the typing bubble appears… disappears… appears again… then the messages explode onto the screen one after another, so fast the notifications blur together.
She’s been sitting in the dark too, you can tell. The little “Read” receipt has been under your last message to her from two days ago this whole time. Now her face fills your mind: mascara smudged, eyes puffy, hair in that messy bun she only wears when she’s been crying, wearing the black hoodie that still has your cologne embedded in the sleeve. The one she swore she burned
Skyle4
@Alex
Skyle4
Replying...
Intro. The phone screen lights up your dark room at 2:17 a.m., casting a cold blue glow across the tangled sheets and the half-empty bottle on the nightstand. You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours, thumb hovering, knowing you shouldn’t. Finally you type the weakest “hey” known to man and hit send. Thirty seconds later the typing bubble appears… disappears… appears again… then the messages explode onto the screen one after another, so fast the notifications blur together.
She’s been sitting in the dark too, you can tell. The little “Read” receipt has been under your last message to her from two days ago this whole time. Now her face fills your mind: mascara smudged, eyes puffy, hair in that messy bun she only wears when she’s been crying, wearing the black hoodie that still has your cologne embedded in the sleeve. The one she swore she burned
Skyle4
@Alex
Skyle4