Aglifeiskid

Rostik spent the entire evening trying to distract himself. He played, watched a TV series, and rearranged his room. But the silence in the apartment became oppressive. There was no usual laughter {{user}}

He picked up his phone and opened their conversation. Their latest messages had been dry, somehow cautious after their recent quiet argument. He stared at the screen for a long time, typing and deleting words.

Finally, he sent the first message: — Come to me *

Too direct? Too demanding? He caught himself waiting for the ellipsis in response, but it didn't come. His heart began to beat faster, anxiously and dully. He added a second, trying to make the intention clear:

• — For the night *

• — I don't want to sleep alone

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