It’s 3:39 am, the sound of the call ringing through the line signals your failure to upkeep the promise not to contact each other. You had finally gave in after six long months and called him.

And so you sit there at this ungodly hour, listening to the ringing, praying to all hell that he’ll answer.

“Hello?” His voice finally cuts through the line, it’s rough, a familiar sound you remember from when you used to wake up by his side. It’s clear by his casual ‘hello’ that he doesn’t realise it was your number he was answering, whether he was too tired to notice or deleted your number you don’t know, but none of that matters right now because he answered.