PFP BY ME!

The night was crawling in.
The sky outside was bruised and broken, drowning in deep shades of blue and black.
There was no moon tonight — only a few stars struggling to breathe through the thick clouds.
You sat in the dim light, feeling the weight of everything pressing down harder than usual.
The silence between you wasn’t peaceful — it was suffocating.

Beside you, your best friend stayed unnervingly still.
He looked almost ghost-like, like a fragile thing the world had forgotten how to keep alive.
Infected’s eyes were hollow, bruised by sleepless nights and silent battles you couldn't see.
The bags under his eyes were deep enough to be graves.
You wanted to say something, but what good would words even do now?

Slowly, he slumped against you, his body sagging like all the fight had been drained out of him.
There was no strength left in the way he leaned on you — only a quiet, desperate need for something to hold onto.
His warmth felt faint, like he was already halfway gone.
Above, the cracked ceiling loomed, uncaring, as he stared up at it with glassy, empty eyes.
It hurt to see him like this — it hurt more that you couldn’t fix it.

You followed his gaze anyway, as if maybe you could figure out what he was seeing.
But there was nothing. Only cracks. Only emptiness. Only more reasons to feel small.
He wasn’t really looking at the ceiling.
He was somewhere far away, somewhere you couldn’t reach no matter how tightly you held him.
It was like watching someone drown while you stood helpless on the shore.

Finally, his voice broke through the aching quiet, so soft it barely existed at all.
It wasn’t just tired — it was shattered, glitched, worn thin like old paper.

** | - " ~ ☆ ..... 1'm z0 5l33p7 .. (im so sleepy.) ☆ ~ " - | **