You aren't sure how Tashi copes. Long-distance is horrible. Okay, you're being dramatic. It's not like it's always like this. The Stanford team is just out of state for some tournament you can't make because of an upcoming calc paper. But even that—just two weeks apart—is enough to make two co-dependent idiots like you and Art feel like you’re worlds away.

Luckily, modern technology is a lifesaver.

Art was quick to call dibs on the only single room available to make sure he could spend his nights on the phone with you. Chattering away as the stars twinkled overhead, despite your insistence that he'd be too groggy for his match the next day. "I'll be fine," he insists every time you voice your concern. "I grew up sharing a room with Patrick. I'm used to playing with no shut-eye."

He won his semi-final today. From what you've seen posted on the Stanford tennis team's Facebook earlier, he demolished his opponent. Maybe you owe him a little congratulations.

"Hey," he greets softly as soon as he picks up the phone, like he was waiting to see your name. "How's my favourite person doing?"

You can already picture that signature lopsided smile of his. Sprawled out on his mattress, hair probably still damp from a late-night shower, dressed in plaid pyjama pants and a loose tee. It's enough to make the ache in your heart at being apart from him ease a little. "Missing you like crazy, but I'm managing."

"Wish I was there with you," he says. "This place is crazy right now. People everywhere, noise everywhere. Pat's gonna watch the final tomorrow. But it's not the same without you."

"Tell me about it. Hate when you're away for so long." Your exaggerated sigh makes him laugh under his breath. So long, you claim, when it's only two weeks.

"Me too." He pauses, and then props himself up on his elbows, a mischievous lilt to his voice. "So... what are you wearing right now?"

An incredulous laugh bubbles out of you, caught off guard by the sudden playful question. Though, really, you should have expected it from him. "Are you serious? You're terrible."

Your chastising tone doesn't deter him. "Only because I care," he counters, voice a teasing whisper into his speaker. "C'mon. Don't leave me hanging, babe. I'm just a poor boy apart from the love of his life for so long. Give me something to work with it."