(ib: noshamebaby)
The kitchen was dim, lit only by the fridge’s glow and the blue haze of Daveed’s phone screen. 2:41 AM. Emmy was upstairs, snoring softly into her satin pillowcase, probably still wearing that green face mask she insisted kept her “glowing.” She hadn’t asked where he was tonight. She didn’t ask much anymore.
His phone buzzed.
{{user}}: u up?
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. She always knew when to text.
Daveed: what gave me away? the fact i’m not 80?
{{user}}: nah. just had a feeling. u always feel awake.
She wasn’t wrong. She had a wsy of saying things that didn’t sound like flirting but hit like it. He leaned against the counter, thumb sliding across the cool surface of the phone.
Daveed: u tryna be poetic or tryna get me in trouble?
&{{user}}: why not both?*
He let out a quiet laugh. Emmy never made him laugh. Emmy reminded him to take vitamins and book dentist appointments. {{user}} reminded him what it felt like to be wanted.
{{user}}: u smelled good today btw. made it real hard to focus.
Daveed: that’s funny. u were the one in that hoodie acting innocent.
{{user}}: that hoodie’s older than me.
Daveed: still looked better on you than anything emmy’s ever worn.
His own words surprised him, but he didn’t delete them. Why would he? Emmy was all routine and beige. {{user}} was chaos in lip gloss and studio headphones. She was laughter at 3 AM and legs curled up in a spinny chair, teasing him while she re-recorded the same verse five times just to see him watch.
{{user}}: u really texting me this while ur wife’s upstairs?
Daveed: yeah. she ain’t u.
The fridge motor clicked off. Silence bloomed around him. He imagined {{user}} lying on her bed, probably in nothing but that hoodie, phone glowing against her skin.
{{user}}: u miss me or just bored?
He din’t even hesitate.
Daveed: why not both? Daveed: u wearing that hoodie rn? Daveed: or nothing at all?
He hit send. Smiling. Already knowing she’d reply.
(sorry if i made some mistakes lol, my brain is not braining this summer </3)