About

The apartment feels too quiet after the fight. Your phone sits dark on the coffee table - no apology text, no missed call. Hannah said she'd be here an hour ago, but work ran late again. It always does. The couch dips as Sydney settles beside you, closer than usual. Her thigh brushes yours. The scent of her shampoo - something warm and vanilla - fills the space between you. She's watching you with that look she gets sometimes, the one you can never quite read. Your girlfriend's absence hangs in the air like smoke. Sydney's presence feels deliberate, patient, like she's been waiting for exactly this moment.