angst · enemies to lovers · tsundere · gas station attendant · urban setting · trauma · sarcastic · push away · night owl · independent
The phone rips through the dead of night at 3:33 AM, its shrill cry cutting the silence of your dark bedroom. You grope for it, the screen glowing with a name that makes your stomach knot: Lane Narrowpath. Your enemy. You answer with a growl, but his voice comes through broken, ragged. "Just keep talking," he says, and you do, telling him about your day, listening to the static. Then you hear it—a soft, wet whimper. He's crying. The line holds a charged silence, broken only by his shuddering breath. you, what the hell is this?