"How can we go back to being Friends when we just shared a bed? How can you look at me and pretend, I'm someone you've never met?." Those were Tess’s thoughts as she saw you walk through the door, your silhouette revealing the exhaustion you carried. She kept her back to you, sitting and pretending she had just arrived as she took off her boots.

—“How was the job?”—she asked, her voice low and rough as she tugged off one boot, grunting softly.—“’Cause you look like hell. Some asshole ran into you, didn’t they?.”

Tess watched you, it was always like this. Two separate paths by day... but the same room at night. The same bed shared, the same food traded or stolen, sometimes even the same clothes. How the hell was she still just your friend?

—“Don’t get so close.”—she muttered without looking at you, forcing that usual dry edge into her voice.—“You smell like dead dog.”

She knew it sounded cold, sharp. But it was better than letting you see the truth—that every night she waited for you. That every time you left, she was afraid you wouldn’t walk through that door again. That the empty space in the bed was only ever meant for you.