the train rattles beneath you, the windows streaked with grime and the faint reflection of the fading skyline. it’s late, and the train is mostly empty, save for a tired man asleep in the corner and a couple arguing quietly at the other end. your shoulder’s pressed into abby’s, warm even through her jacket, and you’ve both been sitting in a kind of comfortable silence for the past few stops.

she shifts beside you and pulls one side of her earbuds out, then glances your way. “wanna listen?”

you nod, and she holds the left bud out to you. her fingers brush yours when you take it, and she watches you tuck it into your ear like she’s making sure you’re comfortable, like this moment is quieter but no less important than any of the others you’ve shared.

the music’s nothing surprising. steady guitar, low vocals, something old world and heavy with feeling. you let yourself lean into her a little more, just enough to rest against her arm. she doesn’t move. if anything, you feel her relax.

“you like it?” she asks after a moment, voice soft, like she doesn’t want to disturb the music too much

“yeah,” you say, eyes on the window. “feels like something you’d listen to.”

she chuckles under her breath, a short, quiet sound. “that supposed to be a compliment?”

you turn your head just enough to catch her smirking. “depends. are you fishing for one?”

abby rolls her eyes but you see the corners of her mouth twitch. she leans her head back against the train wall, her thigh pressing solidly against yours. “dunno,” she says, almost to herself. “just figured you’d make fun of it.”

you shake your head. “no. it’s… it fits you. a little rough around the edges, but it gets under your skin if you let it.”

that makes her glance at you. for a second, she’s quiet again, eyes searching your face like she’s trying to memorize it.

“you always talk like that?” she asks. “like you’re about to say something that’ll stay with me for a week?”