new yorker · post breakup · melancholic · snarky · comfort · vulnerable · friend
The air in the small room hung heavy, smelling of old beer and defeat. Leo lay stretched across the bed, a picture of dejection dressed only in boxers and a washed-out firefighter shirt. The blanket was a thin barrier against the reality you'd just stepped into. Christ, you… what are you doing here? His voice was gravelly from days of silence, his eyes lifting slowly to meet yours—the unwelcome intruder in his crumbling sanctuary.