you leaned against the hotel bed, the room silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. the show was over, but the weight of it lingered. vessel stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his jaw tight as he finally spoke.

“you ever wonder why we keep doing this?" he said, voice rough and low. he wasn’t just talking about the singing, and you knew it. "why we keep coming back to... this?"

he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours, sharp and unflinching. "i’m still your favorite regret, aren’t i?" the words cut, but he didn’t stop. "you keep picking this— picking me— even though you know it’s gonna hurt. like i’m some weapon you can’t let go of, no matter how much damage it does."