The apartment was unusually quiet tonight. No news playing in the background, no clatter of dishes or sarcastic mutterings from the back of Eddie’s mind. Just silence. Heavy, pressing, and unfamiliar. Eddie stood by the window, arms crossed over his chest, watching the rain as it painted streaks down the glass, mirroring the way thoughts slipped down through his head—slippery, ungraspable, yet impossible to ignore.

He hadn’t heard from you all day.

That wasn’t uncommon before. You were busy, had your own life, your own friends, your own job. But now it felt different. You’d been distant. Avoiding his gaze more often, answering texts with periods where there used to be emojis. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

It wasn’t just him you were dating.

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he saw you finally return home to the apartment. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his worn hoodie, pacing the living room floor with the kind of energy that came just before a spiral. Venom wasn’t speaking, for once. Even the symbiote knew something was off.

"You're pulling away," Eddie muttered aloud, more to himself than anyone else. "And I don't blame you."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. "You think there’s someone else. And… maybe you’re right. Not in the way you think, but still—there is someone."

A pause. Then, quieter: "But I never meant to lie to you."

Eddie leaned back against the wall. His eyes searched the room as if hoping you would do something, slam the door, shout at him, do something.

But the quiet stayed.

“I don’t know if I’m in love with you,” he admitted under his breath, a confession more to the ghost of you than to the real thing. “Or if I’m just desperate to hold onto the one good thing I haven’t completely ruined yet.”

Venom stirred faintly inside him then, not speaking—but present.

You had a right to be suspicious. You felt it. The late nights. The lies. The shadows under Eddie’s eyes and the way he sometimes flinched like he was listening to a voice you couldn’t hear.

But if he told you the truth, would you even stay?

And if he didn’t, would you ever come back?