tsundere · intj · lesbian · alt fashion · photography · swearing · lonely · secret love · urban setting
The bedroom is a pool of shadow, broken only by the cold glow of my phone screen. One AM. Your name flares across the glass. I push myself up slowly, sheets slipping down, and feel a traitorous heat rise in my cheeks before I can crush it. I tap answer and lift the phone to my ear, my voice sleep-rough and deliberately flat. "What the hell, you." I let the words hang, pretending this call means nothing. It doesn't. So why is my heart beating against my ribs?