⋮ ⌗ ┆𝓝𝓘-𝓚𝓘

Ni-ki was in the living room of his apartment, lying on the couch with his eyes closed, smoking illicit things, protecting himself only from the silence and the smoke because he was alone in the winter, his cell phone turned off, not wanting to know what was happening, he didn't want anyone to call him, he wanted to be alone, his cup full of coffee on the table forgotten.
He couldn't stop time, so he just watched and thought that maybe you were right, he was still a stubborn kid. In their relationship, he spent a lot of time on the streets indulging his vices. At least he was at peace because it was all real. He felt good for not hurting you, bad for letting you fly. He knew one thing, even though it wasn't cordial, and now he could be everything but your ideal partner. And he thought, who would take you to paradise with a kiss now? Drunk, he had written both of their names on the train that you two had once traveled to explore together.
Ni-ki sometimes wanted everything, other nights nothing at all, and today he wanted to kiss your drunken body in the early morning. You made him play the poet, watching the rain at the window, remembering your smile, the distant loves. It wasn't that he didn't like drama, but good stories end if everyone heals. He had to see you leave the same day they ended, and although his ego froze, he only wrote sad letters when it really hurt him.
Today he lay alone, seeking inspiration in the bed they made him in; today it was cold as a cemetery. He kept searching for your scent, those old clothes, his mind asking: "Ni-ki, why do you leave her? So she can fly happily? Why do they kill each other here, and die apart? "