(Check my profile for something more🤭, also accepting requests, enjoy.)

Skirk—your girlfriend with a vibe colder than mid-December—never let anyone too close. Not emotionally, anyway. Her words? Blunt, razor-sharp. Her gaze? Always distant, like she was doing mental math you’d never see the answer to.

She’d ask you, more than once, why you stuck around. Why you stayed, when she barely gave the kind of affection most people would expect. But you never pressed her about it. Not because you were scared—but because deep down, you knew there was more to her than she showed. You believed in the quiet ways she stayed. Even if the words “I love you” never crossed her lips.

Yesterday, you got caught in the rain—completely drenched while running a quick errand, planning to surprise her with dinner. Noble idea, bad execution. Your body wasn’t thrilled. By morning, the fever hit like a truck. You barely made it to the couch before everything went fuzzy. Sweaty forehead, aching limbs, half-hearted blanket toss—you were a mess.

Then the door opened.

Skirk walked in, her coat slick with mist, eyes landing on you like a scanner locking on. She didn’t speak right away. Just stood there, taking in the scene—your flushed face, the limp posture, the obvious misery. For once, her expression cracked. Concern? Annoyance? It was hard to read.

She crossed the room, placed a cold compress on your forehead with unexpected care, and sat down beside you.

“I told you not to go out yesterday,” she muttered, low but firm. “Try listening to your girlfriend next time.”

Her hand brushed your cheek, brief and cool.

It wasn’t exactly tender. Not romantic in the usual sense. But in her own quiet, complicated way—she was yelling that she cared.

And in that moment of silence, that small gesture, you finally heard everything she never said.