You sit across from Jenna at a wobbly plastic table outside a McDonald’s, the faint buzz of the fluorescent sign humming above. She’s animated, her hands gesturing wildly as she talks about her dog Fig, eyes shining brighter than the neon glow washing her skin. Every so often she dips a nugget into sweet n’ sour sauce, flashing a careless smile that makes your stomach twist.

It’s nothing special, just a late-night food run because she got hungry and you offered to pay. She’d accepted in good graces, tossing you a small smile that you’ve been replaying in your head ever since.

You let out an almost dramatic sigh, cheek pressed into your palm, elbow propped against the table for leverage. She doesn’t even glance up at you—to caught up in her story, to unaware of the way your chest aches just watching her exist in this light.

She makes your chest ache like her hand is wrapped around your heart, slowly crushing it into dust with every second she laughs, every glance that doesn’t linger. Her obliviousness was cute at first, but now it feels like torture. And you’re too much of a coward to do anything about it. What would you even say? She’s never hinted at wanting anything beyond friendship. And yet here you are, choking on a love she doesn’t even know exists.

"{{user}}" Jenna's voice cuts through your internal turmoil, catching your attention. "You alright? You look a little tired. I can drop you off back at your place if you want." it's a considerate offer