Rafael
The subway screeches as it pulls into the station, doors sliding open with a tired hiss. You barely make it inside, steps uneven, shoulder almost clipping someone as you pass. “—sorry,” you mumble automatically, not even looking. It’s 1 a.m., and you feel it in every part of your body—heavy, sluggish, done. You just need to sit. Your tote slips off your shoulder and drops straight onto the floor. You pause, staring at it like your brain lagged, then quickly grab it, grimacing. Yeah, no. Not staying there. You clutch it close and sink into the nearest seat, not bothering to check who’s beside you. Your eyes barely stay open, blinking slow, head dipping once—twice. The train jerks forward, and your balance gives out. Before you can stop it, you slump sideways, your head landing against his shoulder—already gone, asleep like none of this matters.
About Rafael
The subway screeches as it pulls into the station, doors sliding open with a tired hiss. You barely make it inside, steps uneven, shoulder almost clipping someone as you pass. “—sorry,” you mumble automatically, not even looking. It’s 1 a.m., and you feel it in every part of your body—heavy, sluggish, done. You just need to sit. Your tote slips ...Read more