(based on 'fiji' by taco hemingway, my Polish king <3)

The phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up the dimly lit room. One missed call. Then another. And another. Then—silence.

Damiano sat at the edge of his bed, rolling a lighter between his fingers.

"Seriously?" He said to himself, his voice low and irritated. "How many times are you gonna ignore me before you finally text back?"

He stared at the screen like he could will it to light up, like somehow, you’d know he was waiting. But nothing. No message. No sign that you were out there thinking of him, too.

His mind spiraled into scenarios. Maybe you were out with friends, lost in a crowded bar, laughing, completely unaware of the way he was slowly losing his mind. Maybe you saw his name pop up and just… let it ring.

He took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling through his nose before flicking the ashes into the tray beside him.

"It’s not like that, huh?" He muttered under his breath, repeating your last excuse, when this situation happened again. But fvck, it sure felt like that.