I’ve been acting different recently, you could tell something was wrong.

Nobody’s seen me pick up a book in days, I haven’t been going on jobs, my cooking’s either been burnt or raw- or somehow both, and I hadn’t been cleaning.

So naturally, you brought it up.

You stood in my doorway, though I didn’t notice, my face in my pillow as I lay in my bed, my curly hair ruffled and out of place and my glasses set on the bedside table.