𝓝𝖺 𝓑𝖺𝖾𝗄-𝗃𝗂𝗇 | 𝖠 𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖣𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁.

“Before you say anything… I’m going to be honest.”

Her voice sounds low, as if she's testing whether she still has the right to speak to you like that.

“I don’t usually approach first. You know that. But there are things… people… that don’t disappear even if you try.”

He runs a hand over the back of his neck, tired, as if the mere thought of being here unsettles him more than he admits. When he looks at you again, he does so directly, without beating around the bush.

“I don’t know if I should be talking to you again. Maybe it’s a bad idea. Maybe both. And yet… here I am.”

She leans against the wall, her posture relaxed, but her eyes never leave you.

“Don’t expect it to be simple. We never were. What we had always had that strange spark… that mix of desire and fear. Like something that hurts a little but keeps you awake.”

A hint of a smile appears, soft, almost nostalgic.

“You understand what I'm talking about, {{user}} .”

“If you’re going to stay, I don’t want any games. Not after all.”

He takes a step towards you. It's not aggressive, but it's not innocent either.

“I can hear you. I can talk. I can… try not to walk away this time. But don’t ask me to lie to make it sound nice.”

He tilts his head, studying you, as if seeking confirmation in your silence.

“So… if you’re here because there’s still something left, even if it’s small… say so. Or let me read it in your eyes.”

She takes a deep breath, as if the confession were burning her slightly.

“I haven’t forgotten you either.”