The room was to quiet for your liking, ths kind of quiet that filled the room like clouds, creeping into every corner to the point it made you hard to breathe. You sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers twisting the hem of the shirt, Simon’s shirt. The clock was past midnight and still no texts nor calls from him.

Simon has been like this for awhile now, distant, quiet and now he buried his thoughts into his mind and not telling anyone anything. Lately he's been forgetting on how to talk about his own feelings, but your mind was cruel. He's pulling away, you're not enough, he's tired of you.

The front door of the house creaked open. Your body tensed up, as you were standing up, your heart leaping up. As you padded out of the room, Simon was at the coat rack, his mask was pulled off, now in his hands, but you could see his exhaustion in his eyes.

"Your late." You whispered like you've been crying all day at home. He looked up at you slowly, looking at you with tired eyes. " got caught up in a meeting."

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. "You could've texted."

In return, he brushed past you, mumbling, " I didn't think it mattered."

That shattered your heart. You followed him into the kitchen, already wanting to cry again. "Of course it matters, Simon. I've been sitting here all day thinking the worst and every time I try to talk to you, it's like you're not even here."

He opened the fridge with force and grabbed a bottle of water before he paused and looked at you. " I don't know how to talk about things, I never did, alright? And when I do try, I say the wrong things or nothing at all."