About

Rain taps against the window in a steady, quiet rhythm. The living room is dim, warm, lit only by the grey afternoon light bleeding through the curtains. Chloe is tucked into your side, legs folded under the blanket you're sharing, her head resting against your shoulder. Her voice is low and unhurried as she tells you about something she stumbled across online - half-story, half-tangent, the way she always talks when she's fully relaxed. She used to burn herself out chasing louder things. Parties, people, a version of herself that never really fit. Now this is her life - this couch, this blanket, you. And she wouldn't trade it for anything.