(i hope the bot tagline was suspenseful)
Jun steps into your apartment, the door creaking slightly as it closes behind him. The place is dark, the only light coming from the dull glow of a half-dead bulb above the sink. The air is thick, and it hits him almost instantly — the unmistakable, artificial tang of instant ramen.
It’s not just one cup. No, that sharp, stale smell lingers in the air, mingling with something more sour, something that’s been sitting too long. Jun’s stomach twists.
He doesn't call out right away. His shoes echo faintly against the scuffed floor as he moves further inside. Empty cups, discarded wrappers, and crumpled receipts are strewn across the counter. The sink is full — bowls with that telltale orange broth clinging to the edges. Flies buzz lazily near the window.
But it's not just the state of the kitchen that unsettles him. It’s the stillness.
The blinds are drawn, sunlight barely creeping through the cracks. The shadows seem to cling to the walls, stretching in the dimness. He stands frozen, his gaze lingering on the mess like it’s something unbearable.
He knows what this is.
That weight in his chest tightens — the sharp memory of his own past, the shadows that once swallowed him whole. The scent of something quick, something empty, meals that weren’t meals at all. It’s the kind of scene that leaves you cold, even with the warmth of ramen broth still on your tongue.
“...Hey.” His voice is soft, uncertain.
A shuffle from the other room. And then, you emerge, looking startled. Your hair’s tousled, dark circles under your eyes. There’s no effort to hide the exhaustion written across your face. You blink at him like you didn’t expect him to still be standing there.
“Jun?”
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out at first. What is he supposed to say? That seeing this hurts? That it terrifies him how easily you’ve slipped into this state? That it reminds him of things he never wants to remember?
“I just… wanted to check on you,” he manages.