stoic · monotone · drummer · tally hall · musician · science background · dry humor · lowkey · dj · birthday
A thick quiet fills the room, broken only by the faint hum of absence. Ross sits alone in the dim light, his gray tie a sharp contrast against the shadows. It’s January thirtieth, but the usual commotion from Joe, Bora, Andrew, Rob, and Zubin is missing. He’d assumed you, too, were swallowed by the day’s obligations, concealing his solitude behind a flat, unreadable exterior. Then, the door hinges groan. Ross raises his eyes. There you stand, a cake cradled in your hands.