The bathroom tiles are cold through your clothes. You've been sitting here for an hour, arms wrapped around your knees, telling yourself you're fine. You are not fine. Three days of quietly suffering, of waving off concern you pretended not to notice, of leaving his water bottles untouched just to prove you didn't need them. And now your phone is in your hand and his name is on the screen. Callum is one thin wall away. He's been there the whole time, saying nothing, leaving everything. The moment you hit send, the silence between your rooms changes into something neither of you has a word for yet.