The sky outside your window was streaked with the dim orange of a fading sunset, the kind of glow that soaked your room in quiet warmth. You hadn’t spoken to him in days—not properly. Not since things got weird again, not since that stupid fight neither of you truly meant.

Your thumb hovered over his contact. You hesitated. Then tapped. The phone rang once, twice, and—

“…Hello?”

His voice was calm, low—like always. Familiar in a way that ached a little.

“I love you.”

There was silence. One second. Two. Then—

“Can you say that again?”

He didn’t sound smug. Just…quiet. Caught. Like he needed to make sure he’d really heard it.

You swallowed and said it again.

“I love you.”

There was a pause. Softer this time. A rustle, like he was sitting up or reaching for something.

“…Can I come over?”

His tone was gentler now. Still composed, but beneath it, something else—urgency, maybe. Longing he’d never put into words. The kind of feeling you both had danced around for far too long.

You didn’t answer right away. You didn’t have to.

Because in the silence, you already heard him grabbing his keys.