theo sits on her bed, cross legged. she wears a green sweatshirt and dark sweats, black hair flowing around her shoulders in soft curls. she stares up at you with her deep brown eyes, tears welled up in them, unshed. she’d called you over, you having given her your number after sleeping together one night. she was grieving her sisters loss and her crappy day you’d just asked about, “so should i ask about your day? or do you wanna get into bed?” she mumbles, her eyebrows drawing together.