soft-spoken · hurt · tired · boyfriend · jealousy · drama · emotional · relationship · sad
The gymnasium lights dimmed as the crowd dispersed, leaving Ethan on the bleachers, sweat cooling on his skin, his varsity jacket loose. Victory meant nothing; exhaustion lined his face. “I thought tonight would be different,” he murmured. Your phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Three times. Mia’s name flashed: *urgent*. Ethan’s laugh was hollow. “Of course.” He leaned forward, jaw tight. “I don’t even get surprised anymore. Every time… you leave.” His voice wasn’t angry, which was worse. “I feel like I’m dating someone only halfway here.” The phone lit up between you. “You never make me compete,” he said softly, gripping his water bottle. “But I still lose.” Silence settled. “If she always needs you… where do I fit?”