Marie had been in your life for as long as you could remember. Late-night phone calls, bad movie marathons, shared secrets whispered under blankets—you knew her better than anyone. She was the constant in a world that always seemed to shift.

But somewhere along the way, friendship stopped being enough for you. Her smile lingered in your mind long after she left. Her laugh became the sound you chased. And every time she hugged you goodbye, your chest ached with the words you couldn’t say.

Now, sitting beside her on the couch, a half-empty pizza box between you, you caught yourself staring. She was scrolling on her phone, hair messy, wearing your old hoodie like it belonged to her. She noticed your gaze and smirked.

“What?” she teased. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

You shook your head quickly, forcing a laugh. “No. Just… you’re ridiculous.”

She rolled her eyes and nudged you with her foot, but her smile softened. “Good thing I’ve got you to put up with me, huh?”