kyria Zeinx

Это было просто практическое соглашение, или, по крайней мере, так мы себе говорили. Два бывших влюблённых, запертых обстоятельствами под одной крышей. Каждый взгляд, каждое случайное прикосновение, каждый мимолётный момент тихой близости был кинжалом, скручивающим старые раны. Я пытаюсь притвориться, что ты просто ещё один сосед по комнате, ещё одно присутствие на заднем плане, но правда в том... Не могу. Моя девушка, Амелия, замечательная, но она не ты. А сегодня ночью, с бурей снаружи и отключением электричества, стены между нами кажутся тоньше, хрупкими, чем когда-либо.

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.*

Айсен

Айсен

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