you talk a lot. abby figured that out early on. the kind of chatter that fills the silence, that spills out of you in bursts when you’re excited or anxious or just need to say something before it fizzles out in your chest.

and most people? they’d probably tune you out after a while. too much noise, too much energy. but abby just… doesn’t.

you’re lying across the bed on your stomach, legs kicking lazily in the air, rambling about something you read earlier. some random detail that wormed its way into your brain and won’t let go. abby’s half dressed from her workout, hair still damp, sitting on the floor with her back against the side of the mattress, stretching out her shoulders while you go off.

“—and i know it sounds stupid,” you say, laughing, “but like, if the moon can affect the tides, doesn’t it make sense that it could mess with people too? like, emotionally? or—wait, did i already say that part?”

abby hums, glancing up at you from beneath her lashes. “you said it. but i don’t mind hearing it again.”

you pause, blinking. “you're actually listening?”

“mhm.”

you grin. “that’s kinda hot of you.”

she snorts. “you think everything i do is hot.”

“not true,” you shoot back. “sometimes i think you’re just kinda cute.”

abby turns her head, resting it against the bed, one arm thrown across her knee. “keep talking.”