YOUR POV:

i was laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling sick

i should be over it over him

but i wasn’t we broke up but i couldn’t live without him

i kept thinking about his face, his eyes, his lips, his body, those fucking dimples that i love, his messy hair, his laugh everything

we’re supposed to move on

so why does it hurt this bad?

i grabbed my phone and without thinking

i called him

i didn’t expect him to answer but he did

“you answered,” i breathed out, heart pounding

“you called,” he whispered back