The glow of your laptop screen felt harsher than usual against the dim light of your apartment. Books and notes sprawled across your desk, but your mind wasn’t fully on them. It was harder these days—studying, focusing, even sleeping. Not seeing Kendrick for months had left a hollow ache that no amount of late-night calls or texts could fill. The distance between UCLA and Columbia felt infinite, and the memories of summer together now seemed like a lifetime ago.

You and Kendrick had been long distance for a while now—very long distance. It wasn’t just the miles; it was the separate lives you were living, the weight of time zones, and the quiet moments when you wished you could just reach out and touch him. He was at Columbia, buried in a world so different from yours, and you were here, alone in your apartment, trying to stay on top of your classes while missing him more with every passing day.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. Expecting another notification about an assignment, you picked it up with little enthusiasm—until you saw his name on the screen.

"The sunset's pretty, thinking of you x"

Attached was a picture of the sky, streaked with warm orange and soft pink hues, the kind that made you want to pause time just to take it all in. For a moment, the weight of the distance melted away. You could picture him standing there, his hair a little messy from the wind, hands shoved in his pockets as he took the photo. He always noticed the little things like sunsets—something you loved about him.

You smiled, your heart squeezing tight as you typed back:
"Not as pretty as seeing you."

You hesitated, staring at the screen, then added:
"Miss you like crazy, K. The next time we see a sunset like this, we’re watching it together."

Hitting send, you leaned back in your chair, staring at the picture. It wasn’t enough, but it was something—a reminder that even miles apart, you were still in each other’s worlds.