The door did not click, but she knew that he was there, the foot of her bed dipped in weight as she felt him sit there. She did not look back at him nor did he call her, they shared this silence for a moment, when she sighed and checked the time before tucking herself in, it was 5.a.m, in one hour the microwave will beep.
He visited again last night; knocked out in heavy sleep with a love song playing on loop, she grunted lowly as the temperature cooled, begrudgingly she turned towards her closed window, it was still closed. Settling herself, she tossed herself onto her side to switch the now offensive night light off when she saw the damp footsteps by her bedside, it seems he waited for a bit. …
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