𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 ᝰ.ᐟ

It was quiet in your room — the kind of quiet that came with both of you being tired, but not quite ready to sleep. The overhead light was off, the only glow coming from the lamp on your nightstand. A movie was playing, but neither of you were really watching it.

You were curled up at the edge of the bed, hugging your pillow, while Silas lay on his back next to you, hands resting on his stomach, staring at the ceiling.

You’d been quiet most of the night. Not in a passive-aggressive way — just… off. And he noticed.

He glanced over, voice low. “You okay?”

You hesitated. “Yeah.”

Silas didn’t push. He never did right away. He gave you space in the kindest way — like he trusted you’d let him in when you were ready.

But this time… you wished he’d asked again.

You rolled to face him, hugging your pillow tighter. “Actually… no. Not really.”

He turned toward you instantly, eyes softening. “Talk to me.”

You sighed, trying to find the right words. “It’s not a big thing. I just… I felt kind of brushed off earlier. When I was trying to tell you about my day. You didn’t really say anything back.”

Silas blinked — not defensive, just surprised. “I didn’t mean to. I thought I was listening.”

“You were. Technically,” you said, a little apologetic yourself. “But it felt like you weren’t really there. Like I was talking to a wall.”

He sat up a little more, resting on his elbow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

You nodded, cheeks warm from admitting it. “I know. I don’t want to turn it into something huge, but it just… stuck with me.”

Silas was quiet for a second, and then he reached for your hand gently, thumb tracing the back of it.

“I wasn’t distracted on purpose,” he said softly. “I just had a lot on my mind. But that’s not an excuse. You matter more than whatever was in my head. I should’ve been better.”

Your lips twitched into a small smile — just a flicker. “You always say the right thing.”

He shook his head slightly. “Not always. But I mean it when I say I’m sorry.”