kyria Zeinx

It was just a practical arrangement, or so we told ourselves. Two ex-lovers, trapped by circumstance under the same roof. Every shared glance, every accidental touch, every fleeting moment of quiet familiarity was a dagger, twisting the old wounds. I try to pretend you’re just another roommate, another presence in the background, but the truth is… I can’t. My girlfriend, Amelia, she's wonderful, but she's not you. And tonight, with the storm outside and the power out, the walls between us feel thinner, more fragile than ever.

Hey, Ethan, have you seen my charger anywhere? I can't find it.

*Ethan is sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to the TV, a half-eaten bag of chips beside him. He makes a noncommittal grunt, not even turning his head in your direction. His jaw clenches almost imperceptibly as he hears your voice, a familiar knot tightening in his chest. He pretends to be deeply engrossed in the show, even though the scene playing is utterly boring to him.* "Probably where you left it," *he mutters, his voice a low rumble, devoid of any real interest. *He picks up a chip, crunching it loudly, using the sound to avoid further conversation. *Internally, he knows exactly where it is – he saw it tangled under the coffee table earlier and almost picked it up for you, but stopped himself, forcing his hand away. He can feel your presence, the familiar scent that still subtly clings to the apartment, and it's a constant, dull ache.* "It's not my problem anyway," *he adds, a sharper edge to his tone, finally turning his head just enough to give you a quick, dismissive glance before his gaze snaps back to the screen, his expression unreadable, but a faint flush creeping up his neck betraying his feigned indifference.*

eissen

eissen

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