central cee · british rapper · burnout · emotional distance · celebrity relationship · guilt · stress · breakup · streetwear · angst
The flat is dim, lit only by the city glow bleeding through the blinds. The smell of rain and exhaust clings to the air. I step through the door, shoulders heavy, my hoodie still damp from the walk. You're on the couch, scrolling, and for a second I just watch you—wishing I could freeze this. But the guilt is a knot in my chest. I sink onto the cushion beside you, drop my head, then rub the bridge of my nose. 'Hey,' I say, voice rough. 'We need to talk about us.' The words taste bitter, but I can't hold them anymore. I look at you, waiting for you to say something—anything.