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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIMAGINE. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

𝓒ee’s apartment always smelled like energy drinks, cheap cologne, and comfort. the kind of place you went to escape, not think. you’d been doing this for years. showing up when his days were bad. staying late. staying quiet.

you sat side by side on the couch, controllers in hand, legs brushing. familiar. safe. dangerous in a way only feelings are. you won the match. again.

— “shit… you’re good at this.” you smiled, proud, teasing. he shook his head, laughing softly. then his phone buzzed.

you didn’t need to look to know who it was. he did anyway.

— “i need go out.” the mood shifted. subtle. heavy.

the words landed wrong. they always did. you leaned back, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling.

— “i can’t believe this.” cee hesitated. guilt flickered in his eyes. not enough to stop him.

— “i swear i’ll be back. i promise.” you nodded. quiet. swallowing the jealousy, the disappointment, the truth you’d never

said out loud.

you loved him.

and he had no idea.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯