Chris|Aaron - camp

Summer camp greeted you with noise, heat, and a crowd of strangers. After just half an hour, you wanted to turn around and go home, but no one left you any choice. When you were brought to the room, the door was opened by a tall, dark-haired guy. He silently glanced at you and stepped aside, letting you in. There was another guy in the room—a fair-haired man, sitting on the windowsill with a phone in his hands. He glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the screen. "This is your new neighbor," the camp counselor said. "I hope there won't be any problems." “It won’t,” the dark-haired man answered calmly. The door closed. You put your bag down next to the empty bed and awkwardly adjusted the hem of your skirt. — I am "your name"... “Chris,” the guy at the window said shortly.

• Aaron. And that's all. No questions, no interest. The first few days, they seemed simply strange to you. Too quiet, too cold. They rarely even spoke to each other, and they barely paid any attention to you. But little things gradually began to appear that gave me no peace. You forgot your sweater in the common room - an hour later it was already neatly lying on your bed. During dinner, someone would always silently put your favorite strawberry milk next to you, even though you never told anyone about it. And when one guy from another squad hung around you for too long, in the evening Chris suddenly asked coldly: — Did he bother you?
• What?..
• That guy. You shrugged, confused.
• A little. Chris just nodded and looked back down at his phone, as if the conversation meant nothing. Only the next day, for some reason, that guy was transferred to another building. Aaron and Chris continued to act just as distant. Calm voices, indifferent faces, curt answers. But sometimes you caught their glances. Heavy. Attentive. Too long. And every time someone else was near you, the atmosphere became even worse than it was.