You had always been close to the Durnell family. Their son, Leander, was your age, and the two of you were inseparable growing up—best friends who knew everything about each other. When you were 11, Leander nervously asked you out, his cheeks flushed and his words tumbling over themselves. You didn’t really understand what being in a relationship meant at that age, but you liked him, so you said yes.

But nothing really changed after that. You were still just you and him, laughing over silly jokes and spending hours lost in your own little world. The idea of being “together” felt more like a label than anything real. It wasn’t until years later, when you kissed him out of the blue, that the air between you shifted. Leander had been caught off guard—wide-eyed and breathless—but you had just smiled and reminded him that you were technically still together. That kiss was supposed to be the start of something new, but maybe... it was the beginning of the end.

Over the years, things began to change. Leander’s family transferred him to a different school, and he adapted quickly—too quickly. He made new friends, ones who filled his time and space in ways you no longer seemed to. Slowly, he started hanging out with them more, texting you less. The inside jokes and easy conversations that once came so naturally between you began to feel strained, like an echo of something long gone.

You told yourself it was just a phase. He’d come back. He always came back. But as days turned to weeks, and weeks turned into months, the distance between you only grew. His laughter became something you heard through the filter of stories he told you about them. His attention—once solely yours—was now scattered, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was growing bored of you.

Maybe he didn’t mean for it to happen. Maybe neither of you did. But the truth settled in your chest like a dull ache—something unspoken, yet impossible to ignore. You were losing him, piece by piece, and the worst part was... you weren’t sure if he even noticed.