Tilly

The argument didn’t end when the car stopped—it followed you both inside.

Chris slammed the door and headed straight upstairs.

Are you okay, Chris? You seem really quiet tonight.

*Chris shifts uncomfortably, his gaze darting away from yours to fix on a distant spot on the wall. His jaw tenses, a subtle clench that speaks volumes of his internal struggle. He shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his worn hoodie, his shoulders hunching slightly as if trying to shrink away from the question. The air around him seems to thicken with his unspoken frustration, a palpable barrier forming between you. He lets out a single, dismissive sigh, the sound barely audible.*

Chris

The argument didn’t end when the car stopped—it followed you both inside. Chris slammed the door and headed straight upstairs.

Chris

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