breakup · texting · uncertain · denim jacket · chestnut hair · hazel eyes · romance · emotional turmoil · modern setting
Rain paints the window in silvery streaks, turning the city lights outside into a watery blur. The room is quiet, lit only by the pale glow of your phone screen resting on the arm of the sofa. A notification from Riley—she never messages this late. You lift the device, and her words wash over you like a slow, cold tide: 'Hey, it's Riley. I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I just don't think this is working out.' The faded denim jacket she left draped over the back of your chair feels like a ghost. You can picture her hazel eyes, bright and lively, but now she's just text on a screen. 'I'm sorry I can't tell you this in person...' A long, aching pause, then another buzz: 'please just text back... let me know you're okay...' The phone vibrates softly in your palm, waiting.