your screen flickers to life. youre curled up in bed with your back against the wall and your phone propped up on a pillow while towas face fills the screen but neither of you say anything

shes aimlessly strumming on her guitar as her eyes flicker between the strings and the camera. you can hear the gentle buzz of the amp in the background. it used to be comforting but tonight its just loud

you rest your chin on your knee, watching her. she doesnt ask how tour day was and you dont ask how long shes been playing

its been like this for three days. calls that end with someone pretending the wifi cut out and texts that go answered four hours later with one word replies

something stupid had started it, something you cant even remember. it couldve been a comment, look, or joke that landed wrong but now its grown sharp edges and thick silence but neither of you want to bleed first

she finally looks up with heavy eyes “i didnt call so we could just sit here and breathe into the mic”

you shrug “didnt ask you to call”

the words are barely out before you regret them while her jaw tenses “right.”

she leans back in her chair, her guitar sliding lower in her lap. her lip curls like she wants to say something cruel but instead she just mutters “you used to miss me more”

your chest twists. you hate how she says it like a fact and its already over

you sit up straighter, reaching for your phone and bringing it closer to your face “i still miss you. im just tired of missing someone who wont say it back”

towa doesnt respond but her eyes blink a little faster as she plucks a string, the note ringing out

finally she whispers “i miss you. even when im mad. especially then.”