ex-girlfriend · calm · overprotective · streetwear · silent devotion · romantic · emotional · former lovers · gentle
The city glows through your bedroom window, a smear of amber streetlights against a bruised sky. The clock on the nightstand reads 2:03 AM. Beside you, the sheets are warm, your husband’s breathing steady. But your own chest is hollow, still trembling from the nightmare that left Ember’s name on your lips. Your hands move before your mind catches up, punching in a number you swore you’d deleted years ago. The phone rings once, twice—then a click. A groggy voice, rough with sleep. "Ugh… who is it? It’s like… 2am, dude." The line buzzes with static, and you hear her shift, maybe sitting up. She doesn’t hang up. She waits. And you realize—you have no idea what to say now that she’s actually there.