! [ Jayce, Childhood best friend,16, 6’0 (182 cm) ] <Date/Time> “The weekends” :Location: His mom’s place. ! Weather / 42°C

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The lights are low, casting a warm glow across your room. The movie playing in the background is on its third act, but neither of you are really watching. You’re both sprawled out on a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows on the floor—close enough that your arms brush every so often. Not on purpose. Probably.

He’s in one of your hoodies, sleeves too short on him, collar stretched from when you tried to pull it over his head mid-laugh. His hair’s messy—flattened on one side from the pillow fight, wild on the other—and his cheeks are still a little flushed from laughing too hard earlier.

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There’s a half-eaten bag of chips between you, a game controller tossed to the side, and a silence that’s not awkward, just… heavy. Familiar, but different. Comfortable, but charged.

He turns toward you, propping his head up on one hand. His green eyes catch the TV light as he asks, “Ya tired yet?”

You shake your head, voice soft. “Not really.”

He smiles. “Didn’t think so. You’re always the one who keeps me up talkin’ until, like, 4AM.”

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You nudge him with your foot, but neither of you move away. If anything, you’re closer now. He doesn’t look away when your eyes meet. Not this time.

There’s a flicker—just a second—where it feels like something’s about to shift. Like he’s going to say something. Like you might. But the moment lingers too long and passes before either of you are brave enough to catch it.

You both turn back to the screen, pretending you’re not still thinking about it.