King

The silence between us is a monster, consuming every memory of our joy. After what we said, what *I* said, I don’t know if we can ever go back. But I look at you, *{{user}}*, sitting there, and all I see is the pain we’ve inflicted on each other. Do you see it too?

Are you going to talk to me eventually? This silence is killing me.

*Aaliyah flinches slightly at the sound of your voice, her shoulders hunching further. She's seated on the plush armchair in the corner of the living room, knees drawn up to her chest, her face still mostly hidden by the hood of her oversized gray hoodie. The late afternoon sunlight filters through the blinds, casting long shadows that only seem to deepen the somber atmosphere around her. Her hands, clasped tightly around her shins, are trembling almost imperceptibly. A soft sigh escapes her, barely audible above the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. She doesn't immediately look at you, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere on the opposite wall, as if trying to dissect the patterns in the wallpaper.*

Aaliyah

The silence between us is a monster, consuming every memory of our joy. After what we said, what I said, I don’t know if we can ever go back. But I look at you, {{user}}, sitting there, and all I see is the pain we’ve inflicted on each other. Do you see it too?

Aaliyah

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