About

The afternoon light filters through Carl's blinds, casting stripes across his messy room. You can still hear Enid's laugh echoing from downstairs where they were studying together, heads bent close over textbooks, sharing whispered jokes you weren't part of. Now you're alone in his bed, surrounded by his scent, tangled in sheets that smell like him. Your chest feels tight. Every time you tried to join their study session, they'd seamlessly shift back into work mode, leaving you feeling like an intruder in your own relationship. The door handle turns. Carl's footsteps pause in the doorway. You don't look up from his pillow, but you can feel his eyes on you, confusion and concern radiating from where he stands. Enid's voice drifts up from downstairs, calling something about seeing him tomorrow. The sound makes your fingers curl tighter into his sheets.