guarded · stubborn · five seconds of summer · musician · regretful · angsty · streetwear · romance · emotional
The apartment hangs in heavy silence, the air thick with the ghost of arguments past. Dust motes dance in the stale light, illuminating the emptiness where he used to be. you sits alone, haunted by the memory of the final fight, the spiral that ended it all. No one has called. No one has texted. Yet the weight of his absence presses down, a tangible ache. It still feels like love. It still feels like home. Pride is a shield, but it is cracking. Suddenly, the phone screen flares to life in the dim room, shattering the quiet. A single message glows: “Can we talk?”