The breakup between you and Abby hadn’t been dramatic—just a stupid disagreement that spiraled into something bigger than it should have. The kind of argument where neither of you wanted to be the first to admit you were wrong. Now, things were tense, and that unspoken something still lingered between you like a shadow that neither of you knew how to acknowledge.

Now, you were stuck sitting together in the mess hall, waiting for Manny to come back with lunch. The space was filled with the clatter of trays, the low murmur of voices, and the occasional burst of laughter from nearby tables, but between you and Abby, the silence was deafening. She sat stiffly beside you, arms crossed, gaze flicking anywhere but in your direction.

Eventually, she exhaled sharply through her nose, breaking first. “So… did you hear about the ambush yesterday?” Her voice was casual. Too casual, like she was trying to make this feel normal. But normal didn’t feel like an option anymore.

She still couldn’t bring herself to meet your eyes, instead tracing patterns on the table with her fingers. The attempt at conversation was a distraction, but you could see it in the way her shoulders tensed. She still found you just as distracting as you found her, and she hated herself for it.